Through the Looking Glass, Towards the Sky
by fingers-falling-upwards
Summary: REWRITTEN! Devastated and broken at the loss of his brother, Edward finds comfort in the oddest places: dreams of a teenage witch in a alternate dimension. Hermionie is fascinated by her dreams of a golden haired boy and his adventures. Fate plans they meet.
1. I: Place Your Hand in Mine

Wow, am I a total bitch or what? Hahaha! So here is the rewritten chapter for what was I think my second story ever. It's so much better it kind of hurts . . . It is pretty sad what a bad writer I was back then. I'm sure I'll back a this a wonder, "WTF is dis shit . . ."

Anyways, this is the fanfaction I always wanted to read. Hp and Fma in total harmony.

Chapter title inspired by "Genesis" by Forgive Durden, which I claim no ownership to.

REVAMPED! As of July 2, 2012

* * *

**Through the Looking Glass Towards the Sky**

**Chapter One: Place Your Hand in Mine . . .**

_"Feed the line through its eye.  
Draw it from the other side.  
Pull the strand to satisfy.  
The need to compose.  
The genetic map.  
The scientific gap.  
The detailed blueprints.  
Swept away under carpets."_

* * *

The Dusk was setting in as Edward Elric turned away from the building that loomed ominously over him. It cast an eerie shadow in contrast to the orange hue the sun dyed the land. Headquarters was home to many people, officers for the military needed a place to call home as much as anyone else. Someplace familiar where you could return after a mission, a place where someone cared. A place of comfort.

However Edward felt no feeling of comfort or consolement from the cold, stone building. Though he would find many familiar faces with gentle smiles and pitying eyes, in fact more than often someone had approached him offering to talk. He declined each and every time, with an apologetic smile and sad eyes. Behind those eyes held more sadness and frustration than he could ever show. Because the one person he wanted to talk to wasn't there. He was dead.

_Scar's hand sat on Edwards head as Ed's eyes widened in shock and fear. He had messed up. His mechanical leg and arm lay detached on the muddy ground from when scar viciously pried it off during their skirmish. A dull throbbing pain had set in his ports._

_Fuck had he messed up. _

_The blood in his mouth tasted sharply on his tongue, the harsh coppery taste doing nothing to distract him from the impending doom._

_It was warm, he noted with a shocked soft of distance. _

_He hadn't expected the killers hand to be so warm. Really, it should have been icy and clammy. Dead feeling, like the way he made other's hands feel when he finished with his "justice."_

_The gritty dirt of the floor of the alleyway dug into his flesh knee, and he was sure it was bleeding. He felt a vague recognition of how terrible it was that he was going to die in the dirt and grime, but the fear, the fear overwhelmed everything. The vague, unpleasant notions that were lurking around on the edge of his attentions, were just the icing on the cake. _

_He felt dizzy, and nauseous. The adrenaline was the worst of it though. It ran through his system un-reigned and he couldn't do anything about it. It made his heart be so very fast, that he was sure that at any given moment, a vessel would surely rupture and he would save Scar the trouble of killing him, by bleeding out on the muddy, gritty ground._

_The icy fear was finally sinking in as he realized that he truly was going to die._

"_Oh God take this pitiable soul into your embrace and cleanse it from sin." The Ishvalan murmured as his arm began glowing red. It was point blank range. Survival chances were nonexistent._

'_I'm really gonna die here,' he thought to himself, swallowing air, and feeling it get caught in his throat. _

"_Brother!" Alphonse cried as he suddenly and miraculously appeared in the entry part of the alleyway. The sun glared off his armor in sharp contrast to the dim backstreet Edward found himself in._

_Those feelings of fear, the depth of his nausea and the irrepressible end-of-all-ends sensation only intensified when his brother arrived._

"_No Al run! Don't let him get you!" Ed shouted through his numb lips. Panic was seeping deep into his bones._

"_You idiot Al! Get away!" He shouted, his head straining ineffectually against the tight grip of the terrorist._

"_Brother, I'm not leaving you! You're the idiot!" The echoed voice shouted back, and even the anger he felt from his brother was soothing somehow. Edward unconsciously took comfort in his brother's presence. The moment he realized this he was repulsed by it, as though the feeling was a betrayal of himself. No! He shouldn't be feeling comfort and relief from his brother. Alphonse needed to get the hell away from here!_

_Alphonse was watching Scar carefully for any sign of movement, and likewise, the Ishvalan was watching the pair with an unreadable look in his eyes. Edward was inwardly pleading with any deity, if there was one, that his brother would just run away._

_It was Al that made the first move. He dashed forward, quickly closing the gap between them. He punched left, though it was a feint and he quickly swept his armored feet under the terrorist, trying to force him away from his brother._

_Scar had read the movement easily, and instead of dodging the punch he blocked it with his free hand and jumped over the attack from below. Alphonse's glowing orbs widened as Scar too advantage of his opening and swing his arm to the armored head, knocking it cleanly from his head. The empty shell is what greeted Scar._

"_Leave him alone you bastard!" Ed shouted, wiggling and squirming fiercely. Scar kicked the older brother to the side. The air whooshed from Edward's lungs and he resisted the pull of unconsciousness as he struggled to stay awake. Pulling his face up from the mud he glared at the dark-skinned man._

_The armored body caught the man off guard as it punched and kicked forward, undaunted by the loss of head. Unfortunately, the other man's reflexes were enough to save him from the attacks. The oldest man dropped low to the ground and swept up with his foot, knocking the breastplate away. He would dismantle the suit of armor piece by piece if he had to, but there had to be an easier way. There was always a weak point. _

_His burgundy eyes narrowed the moment they spied the blood seal. Taking a leap of faith, he slapped his palm across it quickly and was rewarded by a low keening sound and a sudden rigidity in the armor. _

"_I see, so this is what keeps you attached . . ." he trailed off. The metal arms were shaking and jolting unnaturally as someone touched the very essence of Alphonse's soul. It felt so wrong. The boy could barely utter more than a half-gasp._

"_Alphonse! Stop it! Stop touching him! Please!" Edward demanded and pleaded at the same time. His hand was automatically trying to make a transmutation circle, but the muddy ground wouldn't hold even the circular shape for more than a few seconds before it caved and became a smudgy oval. Edward rebelled against the unfairness of the situation. He cried out or his brother, willing for this to just stop, for it to end, for this to be nothing more than a horrifying nightmare._

_To no avail._

"_You are a product of this unnatural art. I'm sorry there is no way to restore your form," Scar began, his arm lighting in a telltale red glow._

"_No! There is a way! Leave him the hell alone! Alphonse! Alphonse!" Edward scrabbled against the grimy floor, finding no purchase against its slippery surface. He slipped, the wet dirt stealing any warmth that was left in his body. The fear stole everything else that the mud didn't take._

_It wasn't supposed to be like this!_

"_You were made into a monster. There is no rectifying this. Go with God," Scar spoke his twisted blessing, his hand coming to land against the dried blood binding the young boy's soul to earth. _

"_NO AL!" Edward screamed. The armor harboring his brother's soul deconstructed and exploded, the last thing Ed heard was his brothers disembodied voice screaming._

"_BROTHER!"_

"_ALPHONSE!"_

_The world stopped turning for Edward. Everything seemed to freeze in that moment. Then in an instant it was over. Al was gone. Life was gone. The point was gone. The rest of the suit fell the earth slowly, and hollowly, like the hunk of metal it truly was._

"_Freeze Scar!" Colonel Mustang shouted as he rounded the corner into the alley. He was followed quickly by Lt. Hawkeye, and twenty other low-rank officers. On the other side of the alley more officers crowded, effectively cutting off the exit. Mustang froze for a minute as he accessed the situation. He saw the suit fall, the motionless Edward on the floor and a feeling of horror swept through his system._

"_Should we fire sir?" Hawkeye asked gently nudging him in the back, giving him reprieve._

"_Yes. Fire!" He commanded as the officers took aim and let out a rain of bullets, careful not to hit the small teen that sat frozen in the middle of the alley._

_Scar quickly deconstructed the wall closest to him causing an explosion and made his escape, uncaring of the fact he had just destroyed a young man's world._

"_Should we pursue him?" Lt. Hawkeye asked hesitantly._

_Mustang frowned "No we saved Fullmetal, that's enough for today."_

_It really wasn't enough, she knew. Because they had been too late to save Alphonse._

_She looked over at the young man, lacking two limbs. He had pulled himself to the head of the suit of armor. He held it close to his forehead and cried. It was a wailing sound that sunk into the bones of even the most hardened soldiers. It was practically inhuman, the level of pure agony and sadness that was being expressed by the other man._

_Mustang scooped the boy up, helmet and all, and carried him away from the dark alley._

It had been about three months since then. Ed had wandered back to the alley the minute he had awoken and sat there for a week, not moving, not responding to the people that came to visit him. Barely touching the food they gave him. After the first week Mustang had ordered Armstrong to move him as he was at security risk. They put him in an infirmary room where visitors poured in to see him and try to console him.

God did that just drive the knife in deeper.

Winry had visited as well. She stared at the ground for the better part of the visit as her Grandmother provided the automail leg and arm and attached them, all the while whispering consoling words. It was near the end of the visit when Winry finally snapped.

"_Why is it always Al who has to pay for your mistakes!"_

"_Winry . . ."_

"_No! This time you took it too far, and now- and now he dead!" Fat tears started falling down her face and she ran away from the room._

"_Winry! That child . . ." Grandma Pinako said a little miffed._

"_She doesn't mean it, she's just a little upset right now. Give her time, she'll some around," Granny said soothingly to her scarred patient. _

He was silent then, because he had known that Winry did in fact mean every bit of it. It was impossible to ignore the crushes she and Alphonse had been nursing for each other for years.

When Al got his body back they would be together. Forever.

"_Turned out to be more of a never,"_ Ed thought morosely as he wandered to a wide open field, where he decided to spend the night, opposed to the cold building that held too many memories of his deceased brother.

'_And too many of those smiles.'_ Pity seemed to be poured into his cup, to the point of overflowing, these days.

Recently he had grown fond of wandering. He would walk for hours on end without stopping, exploring a new area or just to look at the scenery, maybe it was actually just to get away from the memories. At this point even he didn't know. Mustang protested in the beginning, and started ranting about his safety, however seeing the desolate look in Ed's eyes he quietly allowed the walks.

He flopped himself onto the ground by a tree root, and using the crook of his normal arm as a pillow he drifted off to sleep. As per usual, it was a long and lengthy process. He sometimes wondered why he even bothered, but then he could hear a memory. It was his brother, urging him gently to go to sleep.

After a few hours of fighting with himself he fell into a deep sleep.

He woke refreshed, which was rather startling in and of itself as he was used to waking up emotionally drained. He was so used to having the same dream over and over again. The dream of that day. The dream of the end.

'_What a good dream,' _He smiled to himself lightly, his face muscles almost hurting with the gesture that hadn't been used in months.

Deciding to take advantage of this strange development, he used it to do his morning workout. His mind pondering the dream he had as he punched the air.

He had dreamt of a teenage witch in a school of magic.

"What was her name again?" He asked himself out loud, trying not to lose the first good thought in his mind for months.

"Oh yeah, Hermione." With that he chuckled a little and remembered she was knitting thousands of hats for some weird little creatures called house elves, much to her friends' disbelief.

Focusing all his thoughts on her miraculously seemed to chase thoughts of that day away, and he was more than willing to ponder the mystery of the house elf. He walked back down to the city with a vaguely amused look on his face.

* * *

Yes, I am in fact chopping it off there. Short for me. Oh my God, after working on "National Security," Short chapters like this are freakin alien . . . Lol, the next one is hella long, so kyeh!

Haha! yay! It sucks less, so please review!

REview?


	2. I: Untie Your Mind

My god, have I been a busy F*%$-ing bee or what?

HEY YOU! THIS STORY HAS BEEN REWRITTEN! READ THE NEW STUFF YOU JERK BEFORE YOU READ CHAPTER THREE!

ALSO **Disregard the original chapter two. I Jedi mind-trick you to believe it never happened, because frankly that stuff was just plain shameful. . .**

Please, and thank you. My god, I have never written so many paragraphs in my life. If that ain't your style, then fear not, dialogue is at the bottom, and there will be a lot more dialogue throughout the story, though I will be trying to not make that my entire story as I am often tempted to do . . .

Title for this chapter came from Lyrics of "Genesis" by forgive Durden. I don't own it.

I also do not own "Harry Potter" or "Fullmetal Alchemist."

* * *

**Through the Looking Glass Towards the Sky**

**Chapter Two: Untie Your Mind.**

"_Set the needle on its path,_  
_Bobbing up and down and past._  
_Tears and seams all turn to one_  
_With every stitch and each spool spun._"

**~"Genesis," Forgive Durden**

* * *

Hermione woke with a start, knocking the hat she was previously knitting off of her lap.

'_Oh I must have fallen asleep while I was knitting.' _She thought to herself, frazzled as she scrambled to pick up the yarn ball before Crookshanks could get his paws on it. Untangling the cat from the string was a fiasco she did not want to repeat.

'_What a queer dream I had.' _She paused for a moment on the ground, trying to capture the fleeing thoughts before they disappeared entirely.

She had a dream about a short, blonde haired boy, named Edward and his brother Alphonse, who was in a suit of armor for some reason. They were overthrowing some false prophet from a city she had never heard of before. They used some form of magic that had been long forgotten. Alchemy.

Hermione was puzzled and intrigued of what she had stumbled upon and decided to look into it when she was at the library that day.

"Morning Hermione," Harry called as he and Ron descended from their dorm.

"You didn't spend all night working on those hats, did you?" Ron asked agape.

"No I fell asleep," Hermione responded curtly at his tone.

"Oh, well hurry up if you want to have enough time for breakfast. We have Snape first and if we don't make it in time he'll definitely take points away," Harry said as he helped Hermione pick up her knitting.

"Okay I'll hurry just let me change," She called as she ascended the stairs towards the girl's dorm. She thought of the gold haired boy in her dream all day, a little sad the dream had ended, it was exciting and action-packed with an undercurrent of drama and good humor.

She was also curious of the mysterious object he mentioned, and why he needed it. Figuring she would never know Hermione shrugged it off by the end of the day.

However for the next year or so she would dream about his adventures every night. Unaware he was doing the same thing with her memories.

It took her a few weeks to really believe that this was going to be around for a while. It puzzled her when she realized that every dream was not necessarily in chronological order, made clear by one memory which far preceded the others when he was not more than four and first experimenting with Alchemy. She vowed that when she had all the pieces she would make a timeline of some sort. That was if she continued to get these dreams. Which they could end any moment now.

She denied the feeling of anxiety that came before she slept. Because one of these nights, they would surely stop coming.

When she wasn't worrying about Harry and his competitions in the twi-wizard tournament, she found herself thinking about it recurrently throughout the day, unable to get past some of what she dreamed. When Hermione failed to remember certain details about a dream she was met by an overwhelming wave of frustration. It was like missing pages of a really great book.

To remedy this fact, she set out one day to Hogsmede in search of a good journal. It was easy to leave Harry and Ron at the Three Broomsticks, because the moment she said 'book' they were waving their hands and wishing her a good time. Really now, those two were incorrigible sometimes.

She went through some generic stores that had plenty of notebooks, but they weren't what she was looking for. The story she was writing was worth something of a bit higher quality then mass produced, hundred-paged notebooks that were destroyed by the slightest sign of mistreatment. No, that simply would not do.

It was then she came across an antique bookshop on the outskirts of town. She was amazed she had never noticed it, before realizing she usually never ventured far from the town center which had Honeydukes, Zonkos, and the Three Broomsticks. Shaking her head from her thoughts, she entered eagerly. The smell of old parchment and ink greeted her in a familiar wave. The heat in the room forced her to remove her scarf and hat, revealing her red face. The lighting was warm and created an easing atmosphere to couple with the homey sight of books. And boy, were there books. Stacked so high she had to take a few steps back and squint to see the titles. She was gob smacked to find some familiar muggle titles thrown into the mix.

Mr. Faustine was a thin, elderly man with a large nose and keen eyes, coupled with a quiet countenance. He seemed pleased at her value of books and the knowledge kept within them. In turn Hermione was refreshed by someone who treated muggle books and magic books with the same level of care. In the end, they really were just books. Upon asking if he had any journal she could use, he had paused before leaving to the back. She was waiting anxiously for a few moments when he emerged with a single leather bound volume. He wordlessly handed it to her so she could examine it.

It was a bright crimson color that made the light gleam dully on its leather surface. There was a border about two inches wide going around it that was full of Celtic knotting and bordering. She ran her finger over it, feeling its odd texture. Opening it, she found a few hundred blank pages of quality writing paper, practically begging for her to fill their empty expanse with words.

She had no qualms paying any cost for it. She knew this was a superior item. Surprisingly, the price was much smaller than she had thought it would be. When she asked him, he told her that he imagined she would be a returning customer. He wrapped it up carefully in brown paper that betrayed the true value of what lay beneath the paper.

He also told her that if she managed to fill the journal, to come back for another. She agreed easily, though she could not imagine filling a whole book full of just dreams. There were a lot of pages in it. After all the dreams would probably stop after a few weeks anyways.

But the dreams did not stop as she expected. In fact, every time she fell asleep, they were there, as thought they were lurking just below her eyelids, waiting for a moment to attack.

Hermione was actually quite delighted at the development, because the dreams were always entertaining, whether it was because they were funny, or heart wrenching or even disturbing. The latter of the group sometimes made her wonder the true depths of man's character, and the evil it was capable of.

Sometimes she would wake up and laugh herself silly at the fights Edward and his superior Mustang would have. Other times she would wake to her dorm mates shaking her awake and realize she had been crying. The first time they had looked at her in shock and concern before she would tell them she had chronic nightmares ever since she was a child. Of course she was lying through her teeth, she rarely had nightmares, (of her own.) In fact, the last time she could remember having one was when she was nine and was still afraid that the neighbor's Rottweiler was under her bed, because of the growling sound their furnace made.

Over time she learned of the brother's lives. Specifically the older ones, Edwards. For whatever reason she followed him specifically around and watched the events unfold.

Hermione learned of his early years, his dabbling in alchemy then, how distraught he and Al were when their mother died. She was fascinated by what they were being taught by Izumi and their plan to bring their mother back from the dead. Hermione was beginning to think that Alchemy was more powerful than magic if it could do that! Well, until she dreamt of their attempt. She woke up crying hysterically as the picture of that bloody mass pulsing on the ground became ingrained in her mind.

Ginny actually had to escort her to the hospital wing, for some calming potions before she could stop crying. After she stopped crying Madam Pomfrey queried what had made her so upset. When she mumbled her story about her chronic nightmares Madam Pomfrey handed her a little case of vials. Each vial had about a four ounce shot of a dark sparkly grey liquid inside.

"Take one of these every time before you go to sleep and you'll stop having nightmares, dear," She said gently

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Will I stop having dreams in general?" She asked

"Yes, you'll be in some sort of limbo until you wake up."

Hermione frowned, she needed to find out what happened to Ed and Al, but was she willing to disregard an adult?

"I know it's a bit disconcerting but it's only until the nightmares go away."

"Um thank you Madam Pomfery," Hermione said giving her a half smile as she left the infirmary with Ginny.

Later in the girls restroom by the dorms she sat staring at the little bottle with the grey liquid and she pondered whether or not to take it. Ignoring the fact that she was not actually having nightmares, she wondered if she should actually take them until the dreams stopped. They were awfully distracting, in fact during class she had to stop herself from thinking about them and force herself to pay attention. Not to mention that sleep was what she looked forward to most during the day. She admitted to herself that that . . . was definitely not healthy. Harry and Ron had actually taken notice of her odd behavior, and if they noticed then she really was acting quite out of the norm. Then again, things only overrun you if you let them. Perhaps if she managed her time better as well as her thoughts it wouldn't be such a problem.

The usual loud snoring of Lavender Brown eased her slightly and she exhaled deeply, having made up her mind.

In the end, she decided to see if she could manage to strike a balance between her life and her dreams. After all, it wasn't as though they were real or anything . . .

If only they would stop feeling so real.

Shaking her head, Hermione uncorked the vial and tipped the contents into the sink. Shoving the feeling of guilt from lying to and ignoring an adult aside, she returned to her dorm. Eager to sleep, she slipped right into bed after putting a silence charm around her as well as drawing the curtains. Hopefully that would be enough for her dorm-mates.

The tale progressed, and quickly drew her in with its complexity and realness. There was some real human emotion in it.

The more she learned about Edward the more she realized what a privileged life she was leading. She could fall asleep without worrying about someone trying to kill her. She was able to complain about homework and tests where as he walked the streets of a city in revolt. After a while Hermione subconsciously stopped complaining, she stopped whining and became very grateful of the relative peacefulness of her life. Every time sometimes difficult came across her path and she would feel the frustrated tears well up, she would wipe them away and remind herself that Edward dealt with much bigger things every day. She thought it was a little silly, but it gave her the strength she needed sometimes to go on.

Edward had even inspired her to do something she loathed more than anything; exercising. It was after a particularly harsh lesson with their teacher that she first felt the urge. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that a third of what Edward did came from his alchemy, a third from his cunning, and a third from his impressive physic. Hermione was not fat, always being a little skinny in fact, but skinny did not equate being in shape. Suddenly aware that she was more than a little out of shape she took to jogging around the lake in the early hours of the morning, after she finished journaling. The first time, a single lap caused her to huff and puff and proclaim several times to the surrounding tree's, "I'm doing to die!"

Getting in shape was one of the most difficult things she had ever done, and she almost quit several times, but every time she would dream of some fantastic feat that Edward did, in which he usually kicked some serious ass. She would growl and drag herself out of bed.

Eventually, it became easier, and she found a feeling of wellness had taken place in her life. It sunk deep into every area of her life and she found the results were definitely worth the effort. Oddly enough, she found her reserve of magical energy improve as she exercised more. The result was her smashing a book through a wall when she had attempted to send it across the room. Her classmates jaws had dropped, and Professor Flitwick had given her an delighted look, but said "Next time my dear, with a little less energy," She had only used the same amount she had always used, but she found that if she didn't measure it carefully, her magic rebounded violently.

She struggled with control for a while, unused to having so much excess energy in her reserve. Hermione persevered, and by the end of it, she found that if anything, she had superior control compared to before.

Originally, she was confused by what happened before she remembered Teacher saying,

"_In order to practice Alchemy, you must train your mind as well as your body,_"

After discovering the effects of exercise, she had urged Harry and Ron to do the same. Ron couldn't be bothered to wake up that early, and Harry claimed that Quidditch was exercise enough. Fat chance of that. The entire game you were sitting on the broomstick, where was the exercise in that?

Exercising made her happier with the way she looked, recognizing that this was one of the things she did have control over in her appearance, and other things she did not. That in turn, granted her more confidence. The dreams also forced her to put things into perspective. Getting a zit in the middle of her forehead, while it was inconvenient, was not the end of the world, nor a sign of any apocalypse. That particular day, she popped and moved on with her day, not even bothering to cover it up. So what if she had a spot of acne that day? Everyone got it at some time or another, denying that fact was not only stupid, but pointless. Affirming this thought in her head, she took to only occasionally wearing make-up, letting her natural beauty shine through instead of covering it up.

In reflection to her outward appearance, her inner character grew stronger as well and independence soon followed. Because whenever she came to a point where she wanted to complain or give up on a malfunctioning potion or a stubborn broomstick she thought of Edward and how ridiculous getting upset or bothered by something so little was. Complaining had become her number one pet peeve.

When Harry would come to her with his problems, she was finding it hard to give him sympathy or pity. She couldn't stop comparing his problem: Snape or his scar burning, with Edwards problems: Scar trying to kill him or Barry the chopper. Sure Harry didn't have a perfect life but did anyone? No and the sooner he realized it the better.

Patience became her new mantra, because she recognized that while she had this fantastic story going in her mind that taught her invaluable life-lessons, other people did not.

Harry and Ron noticed her becoming more distant, spending extra time in the library or putting extra effort in learning how to fly properly. They shrugged it off as a phase figuring she would return to her normal self eventually. Meanwhile she grew closer to Luna, surprisingly. Luna was quite a brilliant witch if you actually took the time to get to know her. (Hello, she _was _a Ravenclaw after all.) Many people talked to her a little bit and just slapped a label on her as crazy and stopped bothering with her. Hermione realized she did it too and after talking to Luna without being judgmental she found they had a lot in common; especially when it came to the rights of magical creatures.

Having a girl-friend to do things with had been surprisingly refreshing, it opened another side of herself she never knew.

Fifth year was fast approaching. The summer being all too short.

She had spent the majority of it at the library, researching dreams and the effect they had. It startled her to realize that humans were incapable of dreaming about anything they had never seen before. She supposed it did make sense, though she had never given it much thought before. There wsas no way any of what she was dreaming she had seen anywhere before, the story being one of the most original, and the character's being too complex and real to be fake. There was also the fact that parts of the plot and actions of the people surprised her. If she already knew what was going to happen, then surely she wouldn't be so surprised.

It was a complex puzzle. She wondered if perhaps there was a magical explanation for what was happening to her and she vowed to look into it when she returned to Hogwarts.

She realized there was definitely something unusual about her dreams, but again, at the same time, she couldn't help but become so entranced by them.

She was bewitched.

Hermione was shaken from her thoughts by the vibrating of her phone.

"**The Nargles are convalescing, be careful today. By the way, do you know where my left sock is?"**

Hermione smiled. Sending letters by post was fun, but the length of time it took to receive a reply, was not. So knowing this summer would be a long one, she had invested in a small pre-paid phone for Luna as a birthday gift. The other girl had received it delightedly. When Hermione had woken the next morning, she mysteriously found a keychain beside her on the pillow. It was a tiny cartoon jar of jam, with an ^0^ face on it. How Luna had gotten into the Gryffindoor commons, remained a mystery. In exchange she bought Luna a matching keychain except the blonde girl's was a jar of peanut butter.

Playfulness and spontaneity was another thing hanging out with another girl, especially one as unique as Luna, granted.

Flipping her own beat-up device to the keypad, she quickly typed out a reply.

"**Good Morning to you too.** **Thanks for the warning. Have you checked the roof yet?"**

Hermione suspected that perhaps Luna had abilities in the fortunetelling sense. After hanging out with her for so long, Hermione was able to connect events and creatures, and there was always a connection. In this case, Nargals usually signified change, fuzzy-headedness or something unknown. Hermione was mildly skeptical if the actual creatures existed, but she knew better then to doubt her friend.

The phone went off again, and she checked it.

"**Ntueb"**

"**What?" **She responded back and waited patiently for the reply.

"**Sorry, was climbing the roof. Note to self: texting skills while climbing need more practice."**

The brunette laughed out loud at her strange friend. Her phone sounded before she had a chance to reply.

"**It was on the Beazuk catcher. Do you think this is a sign they are upset with me?"**

"**I think it is a sign they like your socks," **Hermione assured her friend. After the message sent she was returned to the main screen and she was caught off guard by the time.

"**Hey, I have to go pack. I'm heading over to Ron and Harry's today. We should meet up at Diagonally later though," **She typed up, procrastinating a little saying she would start after she got the last text from Luna. Unfortunately, her friend was perpetually prompt.

"**Yes."** The message read simply, and Hermione gave the device one last smile before she tucked it into her jeans.

Pulling her trunk from underneath her bed, she took to her first task, and most important: the choosing of what books she would bring with her.

After a year of constant begging, her parents had finally caved and let her set up several bookshelves in the office room, which her father rarely used with the exception of tax season. There were about ten shelves, and she relished in her own mini-library.

Hermione wandered the bookshelves looking through volume upon volume, smiling when she found a familiar one. (This was often.) It was cut evenly between magic and muggle, and she had spent a whole week creating an organization system.

There was an entire shelf dedicated to alchemy. She admitted she may have splurged a little. In the beginning, when she had first begun to receive the dreams, she had been desperate to get any and all information she could get her hands on about alchemy. The section in the library of Hogwarts had been mildly disappointing, because she had already gone through it when she was a first year, when she was looking up the sorcerer's stone. If she was to continue to find information she had to buy her own books. Mr. Faustine was very helpful to that end and often gave her good deals on his ancient tomes.

It seemed though, much to her disappointment that the alchemy in her dream and the one in books were entirely different. She was a little put out because she wanted to see if maybe she could learn a little of the stuff. The way the people in her dream applied alchemy was so fascinating, especially Edward, he was so versatile in how he used it.

The very Idea of using it in the military reminded her of the ministry of magic, and the state alchemists would be the Aurors. She bit her lip as she tried to picture a twelve year old joining the Aurors. Hermione shook her head and grabbed _A Basic Introduction to Alchemy _from the shelf, just because she knew that she would want to page through it some time or another, before heading over to look at the other shelves. Perhaps the right book was out there, and she simply had yet to find it.

Hermione arrived back to her bedroom, arms full of books, and laid them carefully in the bottom of her trunk before finishing her packing. She started to chew her lip as she mulled over the most recent development in her story, it was probably the most tragic. Hermione woke up to find her pillows wet and her face stained with tears. Alphonse, the little 14-year-old boy had been killed by Scar, trying to save his brother Ed. Mustang had come and Scar ran away but she remembered seeing Edward sitting there looking so desolate, and so _defeated. _That was an expression that she rarely saw on the boy with the exception of the lab five, the instances when his mother died and, after he had tried to bring her back to life.

After that, she dreamed about a particular train ride that had been attacked by terrorists and she had moaned in disbelief. The fact the story was told out of chronological order had never bothered her so much before now.

She became frustrated, her curiosity driving her to the point of insanity. Was Edward okay? How would he recover from this? Could he? Was it possible he could keep walking without someone to help carry the burden? Wait his whole purpose was to get Alphonse his body back, what was his purpose now? She had made such a deep personal connection with Edward that it almost worried her.

The most overwhelming fear was that Edward would try to bring his brother back. She realized the chances of that were incredibly likely and she feared. Perhaps he had dies, and that was why she wasn't dreaming anything after that point. God, she wasn't supposed to be this emotionally invested in people who probably didn't exist.

Deep in her mind, she knew that she didn't believe that, but choicely ignored that fact.

She couldn't picture him going after the philosopher stone to use on himself. Hermione frowned, what was his goal now?

"Hello Hermione," Ginny called as she ascended the stairs into the room pulling Hermione out of her inner musings.

"Oh Ginny, it's good to see you," Hermione greeted absently, knowing that her friend would walk right though the door without bothering with the knocker.

"You done packing yet?" Another woman asked as she appeared in the doorway. The woman was in her twenties by the look of it, and she had the most shocking shade of bubblegum pink hair Hermione had ever seen.

"Oh, yes I just finished, I'll be down in a second, uhm, who are you?" Hermione responded as she pulled herself off the bed.

"I'm Tonks, your Auror chaperone of the day," She introduced herself with a wink, reminding Hermione vaguely of the twins.

"It's nice to meet you, I guess you already know who I am though," Hermione shook the other witch's hand, feeling a little flush in her cheeks. Imagine, an Auror, someone who caught dark wizards for a living, was here to transport her to the headquarters for the order. It amazed her a little.

"Well, best not to dally," The older woman said with a flick of her wand to her trunk and a miniaturized replica lay in its place. Tonks scooped it up and tossed it to Hermione whom quickly placed it in her robes.

"Have you already said goodbye to your parents?"

Hermione nodded, her parents were actually overseas at the moment, and they had said their goodbye's when they had left.

"Alright then! Have you ever apparated?" Tonks asked as she pushed her robes up. Hermione shook her head.

"Well then this will be fun! I've never had a first-timer with me before!" Tonks said a little too excitably. Before Hermione could ask any questions about the process, or why Tonks was so excited and Ginny looked so sympathetic, the other woman was talking again.

"Each of you grab on to my sleeves, we'll be there in a jiff!"

After hesitating for only a moment, Hermione complied.

There was a tickling sensation on her navel, that quickly transformed into a faint pulling, and that in turn became a ripping feeling, and she felt as though she was being sucked through a far too small bendy-straw.

Then, like a flip was switched, it was over and she knelt panting on a cobbled street. Unable to resist her sudden nausea, she unsteadily made her way over to a nearby bush where she emptied her stomach. Small hands were rubbing comforting little circles into her back, and she stared back to see Ginny with a small sympathetic smile on her face.

"How are you feelings?"

"Ugh, that was more nauseating than the polyjuice potion with essence of Millicent's cat . . ." Hermione groaned. The other girl let out a little laugh.

"It is always bad the first time," She soothed, with a small smile.

After a few more moments, when the world finally stopped spinning, she pulled herself up and walked slowly back to Tonks.

"So where is it?" She asked, careful not to use the name of the headquarters. Tonks silently showed her a piece of paper with "**12 Grimmauld Place**" scrawled in spidery cursive.

Suddenly, the other two houses before them moved with creaks and groans, to reveal the hidden number 12. The trio stepped in quickly, and they were met by several members of the order at the door.

Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Ron and Sirius were all talking around the stairs, though they turned to greet them when they saw them.

"Hello all!" Tonks greeted loudly, with a smile, receiving echoing replies from the twins who must have been upstairs somewhere, before she hovered over to Lupin, abandoning Hermione to Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh there you are!" Mrs. Weasley called jovially as she came bustling over. She gave Hermione a tight hug. As she pulled back she gave her an appraising look to see how she had changed over the summer.

"Look at you, you've gotten so beautiful!" She complimented and Hermione smiled.

"It's lovely to see you too Mrs. Weasley," The brunette repled, genuinely happy to see the woman again.

"You better hurry up Ronald or Hermione's going to get swiped up by someone else!" Mrs. Weasley said causing Ron to blush. Hermione paused; the only boy that had been on her mind recently was Edward.

She flushed as she realized, she even dreamed about him. Well, when her mind phrased it that way. . . .

"Wotcher, little Hermione's blushing too!" Tonks cried in amusement.

"Tonks!" Ron and Hermione cried in protest as everyone laughed at the two's embarrassment. Even though Hermione was actually blushing because of how she phrased her thoughts.

Tonks seemed to find it terribly funny because she took it upon herself to tell the twins of the incident a little later in the day, which brought about another round of laughter as the twins acted it out. Hermione didn't think it was _that _funny.

"Oh Ronnie-kins I love you!" George called with a falsetto voice as he giggled madly like a school girl.

"Shut up!" Ron shouted, his red face clashing with his orange hair horribly. Hermione just rolled her eyes, more than content to ignore all of them and read a good book.

"Hello family and friends!" Mr. Weasley said as he came into the living room, taking off his cloak and greeting Mrs. Weasley with a kiss.

"Hello Mr. Weasley," Hermione greeted standing up to give the other man a hug.

"Why hello Hermione, don't you look radiant today," He noted in a familial way as he received her with open arms, literally. She rolled her eyes a little, they were exaggerating of course, but nonetheless she was very pleased at seeing him again.

"Molly did you tell her about the boy?" He asked, looking at his wife curiously.

"Oh yes, I forgot to mention we have a new guest of sorts, he landed here just a week ago," Mrs. Weasley announced as she motioned for the entire group to follow her. Hermione wondered who this was, she thought she knew most of the people in the order, but the way that Molly was talking about this person set them apart for some reason.

It was also the fact that Fred and George looked especially excited that gave her the first hint something was astir.

"We've been wondering who the guest was all week!" Fred told her

"Yeah, Mum even put a leaddening charm on our wands so we couldn't apparate into his room." George said covertly as they headed up the rickety stairs.

"The whole week without being able to apparate-" Fred started,

"-was pure torture!" They chorused together.

"You survived just fine before," Lupin said amusedly.

"Yeah, but having that ability at our fingertips-"

"-and then taking it away-"

"-what kind of cruel world is this?"

Hermione smiled at their antics, though it stirred a question to her mind. What could be so secret they went to such extreme measures? Usually they told the twins not to do something, made a few adjustments, and then the twins found a way around it anyways. This time they were undoubtedly serious.

"Well it was for your own protection, we still don't know who this boy is or where he came from. What if he was dangerous?" Sirius pointed out logically, only to receive eye-rolls for his efforts.

"Can't say I didn't try," He said with a shrug.

Molly turned around and began whispering to them.

"He hasn't woken up since we found him passed out in front of the house, _some _people don't think we should have taken him in-"

(Everyone figured this was Moody because it broke Moody's code of "Constant Vigilance!")

"-but what do they expect us to do? Leave the poor dear on the street?" Her voice had rapidly climbed in pitch and volume to the point she was practically screaming.

"Um mom?" Ron asked tentatively

"Shh dear we need to be quiet, we donlt want to wake him up."

The group behind her rolled their eyes.

"I wonder what he looks like?" Ginny wondered aloud to Hermione, The other girl just shrugged her shoulders.

"He's a pretty one all right, almost too pretty I'd say," One of the twins said.

"Doesn't look much like a boy does he George," Said Fred.

"No indeed," Replied George.

"What- How would you know? Mom put a leaddening charm so you guys can't apparate," Ginny hissed, feeling miffed that the twins had gotten to see the mystery guest, but she had not.

"There are such things as spells to make things see-through," Fred taunted with a smile.

"Ugh! No fair! Mom! They already used a spell too see what he looks like, why can't I?" She demanded, giving up all pretenses of whispering.

The matriarch whipped around to her twin boys, who were wishing now more than ever that they could apparate.

"Oh! You two are impossible sometimes! Accio wands!" She shouted, and the two sticks flew into her hands.

"Hey!"

"No-fair!" They cried in tandem.

"Moody wanted to take them from you from the very start but I convinced him that a simple charm would be enough, apparently not! Now look at what I have to do!"

The sharp squeaks of bedsprings cut through the family moment. One by one they peered at the door, all frozen by indecision and wondering if they were imagining things.

"Hello?" A raspy voice called out from in the room, and that snapped everyone into motion. Lupin quickly stepped I front, wand drawn in an attack position, in case of the worst. Sirius followed at his heels, then Tonks with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley after her. They were all too intent to stop the younger wizards and witches from sneaking in behind them quietly.

The guest room was riddled with dust and spider webs, this being the only room they could spare with how many people were living in the order at the moment. The room was sparsely furnished with only a wardrobe, dresser and a bed. The drapes were being pulled back from the windows, allowing sunlight to pour in and illuminate the figure sitting who was holding them.

Everything in the room seemed to be dim and grey, which only served to make he figure stand out more starkly against the backdrop. He was facing away from them; he had a red robe on with a black flamel imprinted on the back. Golden hair, made even brighter by the sun's rays, was pulled back into a neat braid.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"O-oh you're up!" Mrs. Wealey said sounding shocked.

"Turn around slowly, if you might be so kind," Lupin said with a friendly tone that had a slight edge to it. All the adults had their wands up.

Hermione's brain could not compute. There was no way this was actually happening, she must be dreaming. Hand reached out of its own volition. She didn't dare blink, knowing that this strange vision on him would evaporate. Unwillingly, a single word made it's way through her mouth.

"Edward?" she whispered softly.

He seemed to hear because he turned and looked at her and a smile of pure joy and wonderment passed over his face.

"Hermione."

* * *

Wow, yeah was that intense or what?

So, to thank me for writing a six thousand word rewrite, _tripling _the amount of words originally used, I believe you should write a review. Thank you.

REview?


	3. I: Let Your Bloated Brain Balloon, Float

Hey guys! Yep, this is majorly fast for me, but I wanted to keep the momentum going. This chapter has less paragraphs I'm afraid . . . I'm a slave to dialogue, but I tried to keep it semi-the same.

**For everyone just tuning in, know that the first two chapters have been ENTIRELY (for the most part,) REWRITTEN and to be up to speed I really implore you to read them.**

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

I hope I made the characters believable.

Lyrics and title for this chapter come from Forgive Durden's "Genesis" Which I don't own.

I also do not own "Harry Potter" or "Fullmetal Alchemist"

* * *

**Chapter Three: Let Your Bloated Brain Balloon and Float Away.**

_"Place your hand on mine,  
Untie your mind.  
Let your bloated brain balloon and float away,  
Wet the end of the thread,  
Thimble upon your index."_

_~ Forgive Durden, "Genesis"_

* * *

The trouble with dreams was that it was very difficult for one to realize when one was actually dreaming. This was especially true when the dreams were filled with such realistic characters, each with their own specific quirks and habits all tied together by a fascinating, and heart-wrenching plot. Hermione realized she was in it deep when she thought about Edward and Alphonse as actual people in her mind. However, she never had a problem separating her dreams from reality because it really was so simple.

If Edward was there, then it was a dream.

If he was not then it was real.

Seeing him sitting on the spring mattress across the room ruined all of her perceptions of reality, and for a brief moment she felt sure that insanity had overrun her mind. The next step would be committing herself to St. Mungo's, before she lost anymore of her marbles.

And yet . . . The pull of the teen she knew so well and yet had never met was impossibly strong and she found herself stepping forward to him, hand still extended. When she blinked and he was still there, he had not evaporated like she had expected.

He walked slowly over to her, ignoring all the threats and wand-waving going on around him. Hermione couldn't even hear the others, their racket being reduced to nothing more than a muffled rustling sound. Extending one hand to her cheek, he wiped away wetness that she had not realized had gathered there. His hand was warm though the glove and it lay still on her cheek, keeping her gaze locked with his. Emotion ran through her body too fast for her to process, shock overtaking all other though.

"This is a dream," She murmured disbelievingly. He smiled a little.

"Wouldn't that be ironic? Either way it is a good one, isn't it?" He seemed a little amazed that this was actually happening as well. He stroked her face with his hand a few times. Hermione's hands clenched and unclenched his read coat, as if feeling the texture of cloth for the first time ever.

"Can somebody please speak English around here?" Ron shouted, bursting their bubble of solitude.

Hermione had forgotten about the others in the room, and she realized that they were all pointing their wands towards Edward in a threatening way. Their voices were filtering through too.

"Step away from her, we don't want to have to hurt you," Lupin said trying to sound reasonable.

She panicked, this may be just a dream, but she didn't want him to die or be jinxed beyond repair.

"Stop! Don't hurt him!" She placed herself between them and him.

"Hermione, speak English!" Ron exclaimed again, and his words finally registered in Hermione's mind.

She hadn't even realized she was speaking another language until now, but running the words back over in her mind she realized that the pronunciation and the stress were entirely different. Her mouth hung open. This really was shaping up to be a weird dream.

"Bloody hell, I didn't even know she spoke another language," Fred cussed unabashedly.

"Think of all the ways we could use it to prank people-"

"-make them think they were in an alternate dimension-"

"-or that Hermione has lost her sanity-"

"-or that she invented a language charm-"

"-and couldn't undo it-"

"-or-!"

"Boys! This is not the time for this!" Mr. Weasley ordered, and miraculously, the pair shut-up.

"Hermione, can you speak to us?" Sirius asked slowly, as though she had been bewitched. She glared back at him.

"I'm not a simpleton!" She rebuffed, pleased that it was the right language this time.

"Good, well maybe then you can explain who he is and how you know him?" Lupin gestured, his eyes calm and unreadable. His stance did not relax an iota as he spoke.

"Oh, this is Edward Elric, he's . . ." She trailed off, her mind scrambling.

"I'm her cousin," Edward responded for her, stepping forward with his hands raised.

Imagine, her being Edward's cousin, of all the bizarre things in the world . . .

"Wait . . . Hermione, I thought you were the only witch in your family?" Ron said with a puzzled face that turned accusatorily onto Edward.

"Hermione? He isn't a . . . muggle . . . is he?" Tonks asked awkwardly at the prospect of erasing the young boys mind. Not to mention all the laws they were breaking. Shit! They were even threatening an innocent muggle with their wands. She dropped her arm, only to have Lupin snap at her.

"Tonks!"

"Alright! Alright!" She said raising it again. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"He isn't a muggle," She said soothing Tonks. After all, muggles couldn't use Alchemy.

"Well how come I've never heard of him before?" Ron asked, puffing his chest out.

"Do I know about every single one of your cousins?" Hermione asked with a raised brow, pleased when she was him blush and look away. There were thousands of Weasley cousins.

"In any case, he doesn't live around here, he lives in Germany," Hermione lied easily, taking advantage of his Aryan features.

"Oh, how exotic," Ginny said with a predatory smile.

Edward stared at the ginger-girl with a blank look, and Hermione had to resist an urge to laugh. Ginny would definitely be hitting on him if this was real life. Her mind had a startlingly good idea of what would happen if he ever did end up here. She didn't really know why she was lying to them; then again it wasn't like they would believe she had been having dreams out him for the better part of a year. Besides this itself was just a dream, and a silly one at that.

"And how did you end up here, unconscious?" Lupin asked, with a skeptical eye looking between the two.

Hermione stared towards the mysterious boy with a curious eye, wondering what he would say.

"I actually came here to London to visit Hermione, but when I went to her house, her parents had already left on their usual summer trip to the Bahamas and I assumed she went with them," He explained.

"Oh, I must have been out in the library or something," I put forth. It was strange how much this dream version of Edward knew about me. I laughed a little, and received odd looks from all present.

"Er, yes, anyways, it was then that I was attacked by death eaters, they were waiting outside of her wards, and I was caught off guard. I managed to escape them but not before one of them jinxed me . . . It was just luck that I ended up here," He said with a slight shrug of the shoulders.

It was tense for a few moments, before Lupin lowered his arm, the others following his lead.

"It is nice to meet Hermione's cousin, but I won't feel comfortable about having you here, until I clear it with our leader," Lupin said before he summoned his patronus, before stepping out the door, Sirius and Tonks following after him.

Edward watched the magic curiously, seeing it done first hand really was something else.

"Well you may have come here through some very odd means, but all the same it is a pleasure my boy. Welcome to the house, my name is Arthur Weasley," Mr. Weasley greeted him with a cheery smile.

"Likewise, Edward Elric," he introduced himself.

"This is my wife, Molly, our sons, Fred and George,-"

"-No he's Fred and _I'm_ George!-"

"-our other son, Ron and the youngest, our daughter Ginny."

Edward nodded to each of them in order as way of greeting. He was caught off guard as Mrs. Weasley came right up to him and pinched his arm measuringly.

"Well, at least you aren't as starved as Harry, but you could still do to put a little more meat on your bones!" She declared, and Edward was officially initiated into the group, whether he knew it or not.

"Can Hermione and I have a moment alone, it's been a while since we've caught up," Edward asked politely.

The Weasley woman nodded eagerly.

"Yes, yes, I bet you have much to talk about. Come along children. Fred and George, don't even think about sneaking away, I'm nowhere near done with you two yet! I'm still angry about you using magic on the door. No excuses you two! . . ." Her motherly racket faded as she shepherded her family down the hallway.

As the slightest bits of the redhaired-family noise faded, silence stood in its wake.

Hermione finally took the chance to let out the slightly nervous and hysterical laugh that had been building in her throughout the exchange.

"You know, I've had some pretty strange dreams, but his one definitely takes the cake," She said, mostly to herself.

"This isn't a dream," He said quietly, regarding her with a golden eye.

"Right, because you're a real person, Alchemy, Amestris, homunculi and chimeras are real too," She snorted.

"If you mean like how magic, London, goblins and dragons are real, then yes. This is real, I am real," returned evenly and calmly.

This dream really wasn't very funny anymore, she thought with a frown. In fact it had taken a rather serious turn. The idea that this was real was so unbelievable that she didn't even bother fathoming it. Her frown increased. Earlier, the pressure of his hand had not felt the slightest bit fake.

"Oh God, I really am going mad," She muttered to herself, pulling her hand up to rub her forehead.

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," He asserted firmly.

"But this is exactly my point! You wouldn't know that quote, or about death eaters and the Bahamas unless you were a figment of my own imagination!" She exclaimed.

"I would if I had dreamt about you reading it. You obsession with Sherlock Holmes that stretched into months, the attacking death eaters, the yearly trip your family takes to the Bahamas;"

Hermione glanced away, but he pulled her back and forced her to look at him.

"I've seen it all before, because every night I fall asleep, I dream your memories!"

She was pretty sure her mind was going to explode. She could already see the headline in the next issue of the Daily Prophet: _Teenaged witch, killed by brain explosion, caused by freaky dream_. Complete with a moving picture that clearly and gruesomely depicted her head exploding with chunks of it flying every which way.

Never, in her wildest day-dreams and fantasy's had she ever imagined that this strange phenomenon could be happening both ways. The very idea was ludicrous.

"That's impossible," She whispered.

"You're telling me. I can't find a single explanation for it, but apparently it abides under the rule of equivalent exchange," He murmured, scratching his nose in a miffed way.

"But my memories are so boring! Where is the equivalence in that?" She asked, and Edward tried smothering his laugh, but he couldn't contain it for very long, and it spilled out in loud waves.

"What's so funny?" She demanded.

"Haha! It's just that this kind of thing happening is impossible, cosmological in fact, and your problem with it is that I've been having dreams about you're supposedly 'boring' memories?" He started laughing again, and after watching him for a moment, the ridiculousness of what she said caught up to her too and she joined in. His laughter felt good on her ears, and she really hoped he would laugh like this more often.

"I'm still not entirely convinced this isn't all a dream, I mean-"

"Shh!" He cut her off. Holding the silence for a few moments she heard the slight rustling of fabric from behind the door and she rolled her eyes. Really that family was probably the nosiest she had ever met.

"We'll just have to talk like this I suppose," He said switching his dictation. If she concentrated, she could hear the language for what it really way, but it was as understandable as English to her.

"What language is this anyways?" She asked, taking a bit of pleasure at the soft annoyed sounds coming from the door.

"Amestrian. How did you not notice it was a different language?" He asked looking at her with a curiosity only a scientist can hold.

"It sounded like English to me in my dreams," She replied with a shrug.

"Hm, your magic probably helped you understand it I suppose, though your mind slowly adapted to it probably," Edward hypothesized absently.

"Wait, did it not sound like Eng- _Amestrian_ to you?" She asked with wide eyes.

"Nope, it sounded like gibberish. Good thing I'm a quick study," he said with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. That was so like him to pick up a language from his dreams and become fluent in it. Wait, she had to catch herself. She wasn't actually thinking this was real, was she? There was no way! This was all just another dream, she reminded herself. Caught deep in her thoughts, she was unprepared for hand that snuck over to her and pinched her arm.

"Ow! What was that for?" She asked indignantly, rubbing her arm.

"This is what you do when you think you're sleeping, right?" He asked, unsurely, because all he knew of these people's customs and behavior was what he had gleaned from her memories.

"Well yeah, but-"

"This is not a dream!" He exclaimed again. When she gave him an unsure look, he just sighed.

"How can I prove it to you?"

Hermione bit her lips. There was a slight nagging in the back of her head, a part of her that wanted nothing more than for this to be true. Her logical side rebelled against the very thought. Admitting this was real was the same as giving up her real grasp of reality and throwing herself to the mercy of the unknown. Her heart was at war with her mind.

The trouble with dreams was that you couldn't believe everything you saw.

But, suppose this really was true, would she deny it all? No, she had to give him a chance to try and prove it. The only thing you could believe was what you thought, so with a deep breath she stared at him challengingly.

"Um perform some alchemy, or maybe prove that you know something you shouldn't," She asked him, fingers crossed that he would choose the former choice.

Edward paused a moment before crouching on the ground and she let out an inner cheer of excitement.

A giddy feeling was set deep inside her stomach. This was something she'd been longing to see firsthand ever since she had first seen it a year ago. It felt like it was an eternity since that time, but the childlike fascination had survived. It was like watching a rocket go off, or fireworks exploding. It was scientifically fueled, and she understood what was happening on a cellular level. (After watching Edward for so long, it was no wonder she had picked up more than a few things.) And yet, without any smoke or mirrors, it still awed her like the most complex magic spells. Understanding and wonder were polar opposites usually, but not in this case it seemed.

Slapping his hands together in a way all too familiar to Hermione, she could only watch with her mouth hanging open as he smacked them on the ground.

Electricity crackled through the air, she could practically taste it. The currents ran down her spine in stinging pin-pricks that only increased her level of excitement. Blue light enveloped the room, all pouring out from eye of his storm. The energy swirled around and around and from her spot she could clearly see the entire process happen.

_Understanding: _Probing vines of blue energy skirted along the wood-paneled floor, sensing, testing and measuring. Yes, it had passed, the ingredients were there and the amount equivalent.

_Deconstruction_: Pixels of chemical bonds were detaching from the wood, leaving the unnecessary pieces behind. A divot about an inch deep was left from the departing materials.

_Reconstruction:_ The molecular structure formed itself according to Edward's will. It convalesced and condensed together, the features giving one final shift before becoming one entity and settling into its new form.

The entire process could not have taken more than twenty seconds. The energy faded from the air, and she felt almost sorry at its depart. Noticing her hair was quite a bit frizzier than usual, she patted it down, feeling the static transfer to her fingers. With a devilish grin, she knelt down and zapped his neck.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Pinching me earlier. At least now you know you're awake," She said pleasantly and he gave her a semi-dark look before shaking his head. She scooted over on her knees so she could see what he had created.

"I don't know if this is what you meant, but here," He said and tossed her the wooden trinket. She almost dropped it but managed to catch it awkwardly.

Hermione stared at her palms for a few minutes without understanding.

"It's a turtle," She stated more than asked.

Indeed it was. It was incredibly detailed though; each plate of the shell had been finely outlined and raised, just so, so that she could feel the individual edges. The texture matched it as well and she ran the pad of her finger over it, noting its coarseness. The small head was perfectly proportional to the body and he even added darker shades of wood to make the eyes shine more. The shell swirled with lighter and darker hues of brown, and overall, it was one of the most finely crafted things she had ever held in her hand.

However that did not change the face she was holding a miniature turtle for no apparent reason.

"Yeah, exactly," He said, not getting her bemusement.

" . . . Why did you make a turtle?" She asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Don't you get it? We don't have turtles in Amestris because we don't have an ocean. So how would I know anything about turtles if you hadn't done a project on them when you were in primary school?"

She almost choked on her breath.

"You dreamt about that?" She demanded, absolutely mortified. She herself only had a vague recollection of her diorama, thought she did remember how nervous she was about presenting it in front of the class.

He shrugged, not getting what the big deal was.

"Sure, I mean, I saw a lot of your earlier years. You saw mine too, right?" He asked, and she nodded though, her lips were still pursed.

"Wait, how did you know that I was dreaming about you too?" She asked curiously.

"I didn't. I just made an educated guess. I figured the chances were pretty good," He said and again she almost smacked her face with how at ease he seemed with the whole thing.

Oh wait, it actually made sense. He had already come to terms with the idea that this was real, and he accepted it as truth. Knowing that, it really was no wonder that his scientific mind had made several hypotheses about it. Hermione hesitated. It was her turn to make a decision. On the truth.

She rolled the inch-long turtle in her hands while she thought. The energy had felt real enough, and the process was even more fascinating than when she dreamt of it. She also had no recollection of seeing a turtle in her dreams, not even realizing that they were missing until Edward pointed it out. But then again, really, was she going to make this decision based on a turtle?

She shook her head at the sheer ridiculousness of her life sometimes.

Though he _had _done everything she had asked of him, (at the same time no less.) She knew her answer.

"This is really real, isn't it?" She asked unnecessarily, and he scratched his head and nodded.

The emotion that had been off-set by the shock and disbelief finally hit her like a train.

After dreaming those intense, emotional dreams that had her choked up just thinking about them, and after seeing the hopes and dreams and will of the characters be slowly transformed and molded as the story went on, their ideals ever prevalent and their goal forever on the horizon, it really was no wonder that this hit her as hard as it did. She had seen the desolation and death, the aspiration and inner-power the tears and the laughs. Then, to find out that every last piece of it was real, and to meet someone from that impossibly amazing world, was almost too much for her to handle.

Especially after she had reminded herself constantly that they weren't real and that this was only a dream.

And yet it was real. It was all real.

God, the very thought of it was almost unbearable.

She stole his hand, needing to feel its anchoring weight. After watching for a year, she could finally touch, she could finally talk to him, she could finally be together with him in his challenging and incredible life.

"I can't believe you're real," She said with wonder clear in her voice and emotion thick in her eyes. Silent trails of water slipped down her face, forced out by the feelings inside.

"I know, it's difficult to believe anyone as perfect as me exists, but try, for me," Edward joked quietly and she gave him a shaky laugh.

And the tears became ones of joy.

* * *

Yep. I'm a sucker for the emotions. Have an Omake and review!

* * *

**OMAKE!**

"Konnichiwa, My name is Sakura Hirakri, and I am fate." The woman said with benevolent tears in her eyes. Her impossibly long hair was perfectly straight and the most perfect shimmering color ever, and neither of them could even look at her because she was so bright. She was dressed in a long traditional kimono and she carried a fan.

"I'm sorry, what was that again?" Edward asked with an incredulous look. He also stared untrustingly at this strangely white slot in the universe where she had decided they would meet each other.

She chuckled kindly and gently and understandingly, the way that only perfect deities could.

"I'm fate. To soothe both of your souls, I connected them across the vast universe!" She cried dramatically, though calmly because she was totally in control of everything always.

"Why are you Asian? I mean is there a specific reason? Neither of us are Asian," Hermione asked.

"Well I-"

"And why are you being so ridiculously nice to us?" Edward asked.

"Because I-"

"No offense lady, but nine times outta ten, fate is a BITCH!" He continued undaunted.

"More like ten out of ten," said Hermione, nodding stoically.

"But obviously by connecting you I have offered you a chance at happiness desu!" She exclaimed, showing them how truly benevolently-kindly wise she was.

"Yeah but if you hadn't made our lives suck so much in the first place we wouldn't need this, now would we?" The brunette pointed out logically.

Silence greeted her statement.

"May the fates join these two life threads together!" She shouted dramaticaly and disappeared before they could ask her any more questions.

"What a bitch," He murmured after her, Hermione nodded before asking aloud,

"How are we supposed to get out of here?"

* * *

This is inspired by me trying to figure out how I could explain them having dreams. This unimaginative idea sprung to mind and it was waay too funny to pass up.

Lol, I mean no offense to people that do have characters like this, this is just meant as a simple jab, I promise no ill-will.

Anyways, I'm fast and funny so REVIEW!

REview?


	4. I: Set the Needle On Its Path

Hey Guys! There must be something wrong with me . . . Like seriously.

Like updating way too frequently disease. Or some shit like that.

Anyways, more important than my impending disease is MY NEW POLL.

**VOTE ON ED and HERMIONE'S RELATIONSHIP ON MY AUTHORS PAGE.**

I may not listen to it because the story will take me a certain way, but if it is totally overwhelming then you know . . .

The third option on the poll is some really messed up shitI thought of . . . . frankly I don't want to use it, but I will if enough people want to be thrown for a loop.

Wow, I feel really bad for the people reading "National Security . . ." Sorry!

Anyways, I don't own the song used or the fandoms. So fuck you, lawyers.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Set the Needle on its Path**

_"Set the needle on its path,_  
_Bobbing up and down and past._  
_Tears and seams all turn to one_  
_With every stitch and each spool spun"_

_~Forgive Durden, "Genesis"_

* * *

_They had sat together in that dreary dusty r_oom for hours, simply reveling in the other's presence and the simple, but overwhelming fact that the other was undoubtedly real. Hermione had the urge to pick his brain and ask all the questions she had always wanted to, but imagined she would never be able to, but she found herself unable to break the thin thread of silence. Instead she took pleasure in feeling his things in her hands.

She started with his coat, simply toying with the edges, feeling the sections where the thread had frayed due to fights and the long travels. She wondered about all the land this coat had seen. She imagined that the small pieces of dirt were actually sand from the desert around Lior, and that the oil came from the hustle and bustle of central. Then again, that could only be true if Edward never cleaned his cloak, and she wrinkled her nose and laughed a little at the thought.

Though his hands were initially fascinating, she eventually became more interested in his gloves and tugged one off. Slipping it on, she marveled at the stark whiteness. For the kind of life Edward led and the work he did, it really was stupid of him to pick a color like white for his gloves. He had gotten his hands dirty on more than one occasion, but then again, this level could really only be maintained by an alchemist. She was a little pleased that they fit her so well, though they were a little loose around the fingers, his being a tad wider than hers.

Pulling off the other glove revealed the automail hand that signified so much of what Edward had failed to do, and what he had accomplished. It created and destroyed in equal parts. It was one of the physical reminders of his promise, to restore their bodies. The automail had become a part of his identity, a reason other than his stubbornness, which had garnered him the title _Fullmetal. _After all she had seen, Hermione actually had a tougher time imagining him without the arm than with it. The metal was cold to her touch, but she could feel the whirring of gears that vibrated the arm slightly. Scratches and dents were scattered across the surface sparingly. She knew a simple clap would be enough to remove the imperfections, but any damage deeper would require a trained hand. He allowed her to flex and unflex his fingers, feeling the individual pieces move. She had almost forgotten. This was also a symbol of love from his other family. Its weight carried pieces of home, of Risembool, and the care and ingenuity of Winry and Grandma Pinako. It must have been weird having someone touch what was essentially an extension of yourself, without feeling it. She liked to think that perhaps he could, just in a different way.

It was then that a glint of silver caught her eye and she pulled the pocket watch towards her, eying the shiny silver with interest. The emblem of the roaring lion gleamed as it spun on the chain. She noted his golden gaze watching her carefully, and made sure to watch for any reaction for her to stop. Finding nothing, she pressed upon the top, and it fell open with a little click.

"_Don't forget."_

The etched words reflected coldly on the metal plate. It was Edwards vow and burden and he had carried it as a physical reminder of his sins. But what sin was it? That of a little boy who desperately wanted to see his dead mother again and was a bit too smart for his own good at times. She shook her head at how cruel life could be.

_"3. Oct. 11."_

It wasn't until her eyes traced away to the first date, the haunting day they had attempted to bring their mother back, that she realized there was a secondary date below it.

"_24. Dec. 15." _

Her breath caught in her throat. Her mind shied away from the harsh truth, she refused to believe. She simply had to know though. Glancing up to him, she was met by an unreadable expression in his golden gaze.

"Edward, I've been meaning to ask-"

Her query was interrupted by the resounding pounding of a peg-leg striking harshly upon the floors.

"Scram you lot! Don't you know better than to eavesdrop?" A gruff voice demanded, and panicked sounds of escaping children and shouts announced the arrival of Alastor Moody. Hermione allowed herself a small smile at the man's unchanging nature.

"So you're awake I see," He said as way of greeting. Edward returned the harsh gaze; his natural antagonistic nature for authority was acting up. This guy oozed authority and control the way infected wounds oozed puss.

"Yeah, one might make that assumption," Edward replied with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

"Oh you're a smart one aren't ya?" The auror asked, licking his lips in a disconcerting way.

"Maybe we should have a little duel to see if I can set your manners straight for you-"

"Alastor Moody!" Mrs. Weasley shouted ominously, and Edward took vindictive pleasure that Moody flinched the slightest bit.

Give the older man an escaped dark wizard, convicted of dozens of murders any day over the Weasley matriarch.

"I told you to fetch them for dinner, not threaten the poor boy!" She scolded stepping past the other man.

"But I was only-"

"But nothing! Don't you think he's been through enough these last couple of days? Good heavens being chased by death eaters and jinxed unconscious, it's a blessing he's even with us!" She pulled Edward into a crushing hug before he even had a chance to move; all the while she was shooting a disappointed look to the other adult. It was the kind of glare only mothers were capable of, and had power over every person, because everyone had a mother.

The other man grumbled for a moment, before shooting Edward a look with his crazy eye, and stepping out of the room.

Edward was having serious trouble keeping the smirk off his face and he was met with a stern slap to the back of the head from Mrs. Weasley.

"Don't antagonize him," She said and when he opened his mouth to protest, he was met with a knowing look. He wisely kept his silence. It was disrupted by the growling of his stomach. A faint blush rose up to his cheeks.

"Uh, do you have any food around?" He asked, much to the amusement of the women.

"Go ahead and wash up for supper; you'll need your strength because they're going to keep pulling you through the port-key until they get their answers," She remarked as she headed down the stairs to put the finishing touches on dinner.

The unusual phrase caught them both off guard and they shrugged to each other before doing what as she suggested. Witches and Wizards had the strangest sayings.

The kitchen was warmly lit and bustling with activity. The twins were levitating the food dishes in figure eights above their harried looking mother. Ginny and Ron were playing chess, Ginny trailing by a large deficit and looking more than a little frustrated with this game of patience and strategy. Sirius and Lupin were leaning against a counter, talking in hushed tones as they watched the chaos with slight smiles. The one-eyed auror was muttering to himself a little off from the group while Mr. Weasley and Tonks were having an animated conversation about something the pair could only guess at.

The moment they stepped in, it all stopped, like someone had pressed pause on the remote, even the sound falling flat. That is, until some of the bean casserole that was being levitated landed on the oldest Weasley woman with a _Splat!_

"Oh that's it! _Accio wands! _ You both aren't getting these back so easily this time!" She declared huffily.

"But Mum!-"

"-we were only practicing-"

"-for our N.E.W.T.'s!" The twins whined, but their mother was having none of that.

"Sit down before I decide to double your cleaning. Did I mention it would be _without_ wands!" She threatened, and they were sitting so fast that they seemed to apparate to their seats.

"Uhm, Molly dear?" Mr. Weasley asked hesitantly.

"What?" She asked a little snappishly.

When he gestured to her hair where the large glob of cheesy green beans was still sitting she gave him a weary, though apologetic smile.

"Oh, thank you dear, _scourgify!_"

With the mess taken care of, everyone had gathered at the table and she began to dish out the food. Most everyone winced at the excessively large portions, except Edward, who if anything looked a little disappointed.

"Could I have a smidge more, perhaps?" He asked, and the woman answered him delightedly with another heaping spoonful. The other people at the table watched with disgusted fascination as he dug in with gusto.

"Blimey! He eats more than you Ron-"

"-and we don't mean it as a compliment," the twins said, watching on with both their mouths hanging open.

"Shut up!" Ron replied, heatedly, before he continued a little bashfully, "I don't eat that much," He muttered.

"Erm . . . When was the last time you ate Edward?" Lupin asked. Edward swallowed and took a moment to think.

"How long have I been unconscious?" He asked.

"About a week," Lupin said, understanding crossing his face. They had used nourishment spells to keep him hydrated and well, but it really was no substitute for actual food.

"Ah, well then I guess it has been about a week and a half," He said chewing thoughtfully.

"You should be careful about overeating. After such a long period of time, your stomach won't be used to food yet, so eating too much can make you sick," Hermione warned.

"I've got an iron-clad stomach!" He proclaimed, tapping a hand against his chest.

"You should know that better than anyone," He continued with a secretive smile, which Hermione hesitantly returned.

"That is true I suppose. You did practically eat the Yusewell inn out of house and home," She spoke, remembering the mining town. A wave of excitement ran over her. Talking about these memories that only the two of them knew about, it was as though they were in on a joke that the rest of the world didn't know.

"I was just trying to get my money's worth. I paid enough alright," He replied, and now they both shred a laugh while grinning like absolute idiots.

"Am I missing something?" Ron asked after staring at the two for a few moments.

"Yes, definitely," Hermione said, making the other boy give a huff of surrender.

"So where in Germany are you from specifically?" Lupin asked, more so moving the potatoes around than actually eating them.

"Ah, Munich," He replied, drawing from his knowledge from beyond the gate. He just hoped it wouldn't be too out of date to reveal his lies.

"Wow! That must be amazing, what's it like over there?" Ginny asked with stars in her eyes, her desire to travel seeping through transparently.

"It's nice, though the people are much different than over here, or at least from what I have seen," He finished quickly.

"I hope you mean for the better," Mrs. Weasley put in good naturedly as she tried to entice the table with an extra dinner roll.

"Sure he does, there is nothing like good old-fashioned British hospitality!" Tonks declared with a smile, making her forkful of food disappear with a little wandless magic.

"Oh course, he means for the better-"

"-afterall, between being attacked by death eaters-"

"-and being knocked unconscious for a week-"

"-and being held under suspicion for being a dark wizard-"

"-there really is nothing else that screams hospitality-"

"-quite like it."

The Twins finished their sarcastic analysis with perfectly synchronized eye-rolls.

"Shush you two."

"Yes mum," they parroted looking downward and eating like good children do. In actuality they were alternately taking shots at Ron with their mash-potato loaded spoons every time she glanced to one side or the other.

"I've heard the magic program there is very good," the werewolf said, drawing the conversation full-circle.

"I wouldn't know," Edward said shrugging. At the querying looks he set his fork down and elaborated a bit.

"I was tutored privately, I never went into public education system," He said, trying to shovel another bite of food into his mouth before they asked him another question. The comment Molly Weasley had made earlier was finally beginning to make sense to Edward.

"Really? That's surprising. I don't know many people these days that do that. Then again I suppose things are a bit different over there, aren't they?"

Edward got away with only responding with a nod.

"What was that like?" Sirius was the one to ask this time, genuinely curious and not even bothering to hide the fact he wasn't eating much of his food.

The blond looked remorsefully at his plate which was only about half-way empty. Hermione came to his rescue though and he shot her a smile while he continued to eat happily.

"It was very tough. His teacher wasn't exactly the nurturing sort intent on molding the minds of the future," Hermione said wryly, almost making Edward choke on his food at the very thought. Repressed laughter wracking his body. Nurturing was decidedly not the right adjective to use when describing Izumi Curtis.

"Were they that bad?" Tonks asked, mistakenly taking Edwards odd shaking as a bad reaction.

Now that she mentioned it, Edward felt a shiver come upon him and he swallowed quickly.

"Worse than you could possibly imagine," He said seriously, and the shiver was transferred to the pink haired woman. Her hair jolted and became a dark blue in reaction to her rapid emotion shift.

The blond teen blinked at the sudden change.

"How did you do that?" He asked curiously. His reservoir of information that he had gathered from Hermione fell short of this particular feat. To his understanding, immediate changes to the appearance could only be achieved through spellwork and potions. The lack of either had his mind racing to find a logical excuse.

"Oh, I'm a Metamorphmagus," She explained. As fast as he blinked, her nose had changed into a pig's snout and it made both he and Hermione, who were unprepared for the sudden change, start violently and fall clean out of their chairs.

Everyone shared a chuckle at this, but Ron was guffawing at them on the floor. Edward rose and patted down his cloak for a minute before offering a gloved hand to help Hermione off of the floor.

"Real charming Ron," Hermione shot to the other boy, who had smothered the laughter, but still had a smile clearly seen on his face.

"Mr. Weasley, may I suggest that the way to a woman's heart lies on a much different path, at least in my experience," An aged voice spoke, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

"Dumbledore!" Sirius delightedly greeted.

Periwinkle was the robe-color of choice for the day in seemed, and little silver stars dotted around the area in groupings fantastically consistent with the constellations. His long silvery beard dipped close to the floor where his cloth covered feet were. There was a merry twinkling in his blue eyes that betrayed intelligence and mystery.

All-in-all, Edward was remarkably unimpressed.

"What are you doing here old man?" He asked with a snort.

"Edward!" Mrs. Weasley jumped to her feet in indignation, the older wizards all joined her, half of the on their way to drawing their wands. But the headmaster simply put a gentle, but halting hand in the air.

"He means no offense, I'm sure," He said easily, and Edward repressed a scoff.

Hermione elbowed him and gave him a look. She knew that he knew who Dumbledore was and that he was doing this on purpose. Curse his inability to respect figures of authority! It was really beginning to get on her nerves.

He shot her a small smile before standing and holding his arms up apologetically.

"Fine, fine. How may I be of service today?" He asked cavalierly as though he had not insulted one of the most powerful wizards of all times. Sirius felt his hackles rise and he stepped forward, only to be stopped by a hand from Lupin and a quiet shake of the head.

"I think it would be most beneficial for us to have a little chat, don't you?" He asked, gesturing out the door to the sitting room.

When Edward glanced a little forlornly at his unfinished food, the wizard just chuckled.

"I am certain Molly will have no qualms about making you something a little later," He stated as he looked to the red-haired woman imploringly. She jumped a little, startled at being addressed so suddenly, but she nodded.

"Well then, now that that's taken care of, shall we?" He gestured with a robed arm, the fabric opening to reveal the constellation Taurus. Edward gave him a hard look, before moving away from the table. He moved past the older man with his head held high, feeling the eyes of the others on his back. One pair was concerned the others were confused and some even a little hostile.

Silence greeted his departure. Many members heaved sighs as they sat down again.

"That cousin of yours needs some serious attitude adjustments," Lupin commented wearily, pushing the remainder of his food away. Hermione winced. It was one thing to watch Edward behave that way to people in her dreams, but it was another entirely to see him do that to people she knew, Dumbledore especially. She would be having a little chat with him after dinner.

"He may seem a little. . . ._abrasive-"_

"That's one word for it," George snorted.

"-but he really doesn't mean it. He's just had bad experiences with adults in high positions in the past. He's just a little wary, give him time and I'm sure he'll warm up," She promised as she absently swirled her food into one messy pile.

"Downright strange bloke," Ron muttered, summing up Edward in a single phrase.

The conversation was stilted for a few uncomfortable moments after the remark.

"So how about them chuddley cannons?" Mr. Weasley started awkwardly, and many gave him smiles, and picked up conversation once more. Everyone was glad for the eased atmosphere as opposed to the tense one from before. Due to this generic fact, they were all eager to slip back into their warm chatter and light jokes. Everyone except Hermione, that is.

She could not help but glance at the door, feeling worry pulling at her brow. Dumbledore was undoubtedly wise, his eyes more all-seeing than Moody's magically enhanced one. There was no question in her mind he would know something was up, the real question was what he decided to do with that knowledge.

* * *

"You know some people consider fear to be the best way to control people," Edward remarked offhandedly as he sat down easily on the faded floral-print couch. His tone was nonchalant and his posture spoke that he was unconcerned with Dumbledore on the whole.

"Oh?" The older man replied politely as he summoned a tea-set with his wand, taking note how the teen watched his every move, as though seeing magic was something new to him.

"We know better. Getting people to willingly pledge their loyalty is the actual best way. Why force them when desperation pushes them towards you anyways. The most amazing part is that they never realize that they have given up control at all. They throw themselves up to their savior, and the desperate ones always make the best minions," Edward said gesturing in the air with an edge of arrogance in his tone. The tea before him was untouched. The old wizard smiled kindly.

"I prefer to think of them as friends, but you are free to your own thoughts." He sipped from his own glazed china cup.

"Even better, I bet they eat that right up," He snorted a little.

"Edward, I know that life has been hard for you, but there really is no need for you to go to such lengths to reveal my true character. I am willing to be perfectly frank with you. In exchange I expect the same of you, see the equivalence?" He cut to the heart of the matter easily and Edward grew tense.

The other man had seen through his routine. The usual tricks he pulled to find out how people reacted, and then to have a better understanding of them had fallen short. There was no logical way the wizard could have known that, unless . . .

"You're using legilimancy aren't you?" Edward asked with an accusatory gaze. The other man just clapped his hands delightedly.

"I knew the young Miss Granger would figure it out! She is quite a brilliant witch, as I am sure you know," He complimented with a smile.

Edward immediately dropped his faked casualness, and he grew serious. This man really was even more powerful than he had gleaned from Hermione's memories. He was not something to be taken lightly, or to treat idly. Even as he sat thinking these thoughts, he was ever aware that Dumbledore was reading them.

"Well if we are speaking on equivalence, then you reading my mind is a breach upon that," Edward pointed out.

"You having previous knowledge of me is also unfair, though I recognize the sense in what you say. Fear not, your thoughts are quite safe at the moment," Dumbledore assured him. The blond gave him a skeptical look. Just in case, he began to run through the periodic table of elements in his mind as a distraction.

"Shall I just assume that you know everything?" Edward asked.

"Good heavens no, that would be quite impossible, there are always things to be learned," He stated, and Edward glared at him in reply.

"In regards to your situation, I gather I know a deal more than anyone else," The old man finally answered in reply to the actual question. It frustrated Edward that he hadn't outlined the perimeters of how much he knew, so Edward would have to err on the side of caution or risk revealing even more to the other man.

"Edward, I'm really only here to help you," Dumbledore seemed to realize that through bypassing the game the boy was used to playing, he had lost a key opportunity to impress upon him the honor of his goals. There really was no point in pretending though; the boy had already formed careful opinions about him through his information from young Hermione Granger. It was a precarious situation where he knew one false step would bury him in the boy's view. Not to mention because the boy knew of his use of legilimancy, Edward was scrambling on the defensive, his stiffness was well-hidden but still prevalent in Dumbledore's wizened-gaze. Edward was far too smart to believe someone when they said they had stopped using a powerful tool like that.

Many people would be frustrated with this turn of events, or maybe even perhaps how stubborn Edward was however; Dumbledore thought it simply emphasized what a truly special case this was and the uniqueness, cunning and strong-will of the boy in question. Unfortunately, Edward was unlikely to understand this.

"So are you going to tell everyone the truth, and then lock me up or something?" Edward asked in a jaded way.

"I have no intention of telling anyone anything that you don't wish me to. As for locking you up, to my recollection you haven't done anything illegal, have you?"

"So what are you going to do with me then?" The blond wondered aggressively.

"I'm going to help you."

"Oh yeah? How are you going to do that exactly?" Edward asked, feeling frustrated and cynical.

"By helping you accomplish your goals while you are here." This seemingly simple and pure statement drew the most violent response so far.

Edward jumped to his feet, anger seeping through his features.

"Goals? What goals? You have your stupid mindreading thing, you damn well know that I have no goals anymore, no point!" Edward shouted, gesticulating angrily at the old man who sat calmly.

"I failed to bring Alphonse back, the fucking gate dropped me off in this hell-hole! When I asked for my brother back it smiled and shook its head. It smiled to my face before swallowing me up and leaving me here. The gate wouldn't give him back, now what am I supposed to do?" He demanded of the old man, as though he knew.

"Go on with your life," He replied softly, and Edward looked away with a glimmer of frustrated tears in his eyes.

"I can't do that! He was my little brother you bastard! He wasn't even supposed to be there, God, he wasn't supposed to d-" His voice cut out, too thick with emotions to continue.

"I just want him to live, why is that too much to ask for?" He asked mutedly, and Dumbledore didn't answer him for a minute.

"Maybe because he wants the same for you." The gentle tone finally toppled to fullmetal achemist and they both knew it.

"Too fucking bad," He whispered quietly.

He was the older brother, and Alphonse didn't have a choice in this matter. Edward was going to make him happy if he killed himself in the process.

His shoulders dropped in weariness and defeat and he sank into the couch, emotionally spent. He picked the previously untouched lukewarm tea with slow hands and took a long sip.

"So how exactly are you going to help me with my goals?" He asked, after clearing his throat. It wouldn't hurt to at least see what the old man had in mind. He wasn't so stubborn not to see what the headmaster could offer him at least while he planned another way to revive Al.

"I was going to offer you a place at our school; the furthering of one's knowledge is invaluable for any goal. It would also allow you to be with Miss Granger, to whom I understand you are quite close," Dumbledore suggested.

He recognized the signs of someone who was willing to give their life for another, he also recognized the signs for when a cycle needed to stop or risk repeating over and over again. This particular one was more than a little self-destructive. One brother was dead and he was quite intent upon keeping the second one alive. He had seen the difficulties of the young man's life daily when he saw Miss Granger in the halls, and it touched him on a deeply human level.

The best thing he could to towards this end was give Edward something to live for. Prove to him that his own life was worth living and it could be a good one even with his brother dead. Getting him to cope with Alphonse's death would come later on, perhaps years further along in his life.

The key to all of this was Hermione Granger. The mysterious connection was truly divine intervention telling them that Edward could be saved.

Lord knew they would try.

"Alright, that seems like a good offer, at least while I figure out what I'm doing right now, but what can I offer you in exchange?"

The question made Dumbledore smile. His opinion of equivalence was refreshing and honorable in that he always stuck with it in every aspect of his life.

"A colleague and dear friend of mine passed away a few years ago. He was the most highly regarded alchemist in our time and changed the face of the world for the better." Just mentioning him made the headmaster smile wistfully.

"And?" Edward asked with a get-to-the-point motion, his previous attitude restored to its natural casualness.

"He left behind a multitude of journals, telling his story and explaining his arts to me in a will-"

"Wait, let me guess, they're all encoded," Edward said cutting the wizard off. Dumbledore gave him a smiling nod, not even the slightest bit upset at being interrupted.

"Indeed they are. I've given it my best for all these years without getting any closer to discovering the key. I thought perhaps you might help me with this venture."

Edward weighed the request carefully. Essentially it was a trade of knowledge for knowledge, or rather the understanding and access to said knowledge. It seemed fair enough, but there was always one concerning detail to tie up with deals like these.

"And what happens if I can't crack the code?" Edward asked. If this guy truly was as much of a master as Dumbledore said, his code certainly wouldn't be easy to crack. Not to mention that Dumbledore, who, from what he had seen, truly was a genius despite his apparent madness, had tried his hand at this for years and gotten relatively nowhere. Chances of failing were pretty high.

"Your best effort will be more than sufficient. If we work together I think our chances are remarkably good," He said with a twinkling eye. Edward snorted, though not unkindly.

"I wouldn't hold your breath; some of the greatest alchemy research has been lost because no one can decipher the codes," He pointed out realistically.

"You are a genius of alchemy, and I am a genius of imagination, together our odds are truly fantastic."

Edward resisted the urge to scoff at the old man saying he was a genius of imagination. That would really come in handy when deciphering scientific notes.

He said so out loud, and Dumbledore had just smiled mysteriously and said,

"You might be surprised," With that obnoxious twinkle in his eyes.

Edward was going to end up punching this man one day.

* * *

Yeah, so I totally played on the little thing Ed does where he tries to get people to admit things through being an annoying jack-wagon. . . .

God this chapter is going to devour me from the inside.

Dumbledore is all knowing and shit, okay? And frank;y, I didn't want this to be easy for either of them. Hope this compromise is worth something.

Anyone got any FMA story suggestions? I only have two stories I really like and one of them is a parody . . .

VOTE ON MY POLL!

And review please . . .


	5. I: We Simply Planted the Seed

RIP Adam Colosimo. You'll be in my heart always. I'm proud to say I was your classmate.

So yes, it's been a hard few days for me.

Nontheless, through some serious word-vomit, I bring you the next chapter. . .

I am so sorry National Security readers! I'll get around to it I promise . . .

Frankly, let me tell you that I had the most ridiculously mindblowingly-brilliant idea ever for a story, and it is for this story. So tune in.

Enjoy.

I Own Nothing! Sections of text have been copied from the fifth book and I claim no ownership to it!

* * *

**Chapter five: We Simply Planted the Seed.**

_"All we did was thread the eye_

_Of the silver splinter._

_We simply planted the seed_

_And nursed it through the winter."_

_~Forgive Durden "Genesis"_

* * *

It was evening when the pair left the sitting room, a grudging respect earned by one, and an admiration earned by another. Most of the members of the house had retired to the couches that edged the fireplace, which remained lit despite the heat, just in case someone needed to drop by on business.

The twins were playing a card trick on Ron who had his arms crossed and eyebrows drawn in an image of intense concentration as he picked one of the facedown cards. Even just standing in the doorway it was apparent that Ron was being conned. The adults were talking idly, and telling stories, with Mrs. Weasley pouring them tear at appropriate intervals. Ginny was undoing and braiding her hair in a bored way as she listened to stories she had heard dozens of times before from the adults. There really was no surprise that Hermione was curled up in a large armchair with a thick leather book in her hands.

The brunette noticed them first and she immediately set her book down.

"Edward," She said simply, stirring everyone out of their hazed relaxation.

The adults immediately drew themselves up. The previous tension was seeping back into the air, but before it could take root, Dumbledore dispelled it with a smile.

"Molly dear, I think some of your treacle tart is most in order," He commented blandly, seemingly ignorant of the suspicious looks gathered by his companion. Edward for his part did not look all that bothered by this development, having grown used to all kinds of stares in his diverse background. He hovered a little closer to Hermione, the only one in this strange bunch he truly trusted.

"Edward, can I interest you in a piece as well?" Dumbledore asked as his piece came floating in via levitation.

"You know what, even though I've been sleeping for a week, the only thing I really want to do right now is find someplace to lie down," He said in a sheepish manner coupled with a half-smile. He was more emotionally exhausted than he cared to admit, and rest would do him some good. Tomorrow he would get answers to his questions. His guard was minutely more relaxed to the pleasant surprise of the remainder of the group. It made him seem more human, and personable.

Molly Weasley gave him a warm smile before rising off of her feet.

"Why of course dear, come along up the stairs and we'll get you all set up for the night."

Her gentle chatter followed their exit up the stair and it was a few moments before anyone said anything.

"Isn't it about time you lot went to bed too?" Arthur asked with a smile, as he knew already knew what the reaction would be. The rising tide of protests was only stemmed due to the fact they all knew they would be listening with the extendable ears. At least if the adults thought they weren't in the room, they were more likely to get the full, unedited version. With that in mind the younger generations allowed themselves to be shuffled upstairs with mostly mock-mutinous expressions.

Each of them went into their appointed rooms with groans and grumbles. For Ron though, it was also with a surprised yelp and some pressing questions..

"Mum! Why is he in my room? And wearin' my stuff too?" Ron asked pointing to the figure on his bed who watched him with blinking golden eyes. Indeed he was wearing one of Ron's nicer burnt orange sweatshirts, and grey sweatpants, both were long-sleeved despite the weather. The white pair of gloves was still on and he looked pretty ridiculous in them.

"Ronald! That is no way to behave to a guest!" She turned then to address the blond, "Don't mind him, he's just been caught by surprise is all," She explained unnecessarily, as though Edward was deeply stung by Ron's comments.

"It's fine, I'm the one who should be apologizing, this is your room and your clothes, you have a right to be upset," Edward shrugged. Ron stared at his mother pointedly as if to say, "See!"

Either she didn't care or choicely decided to ignore the comment.

"Why does he have to stay in my room?" The whiney note snuck in, and Edward felt a small tick mark develop.

If he didn't want Edward in his room he could at least try to be discreet about it. Geez, he was worse than the memories foretold, not even bothering to lower his voice. Really, Edward was still in the room even.

"I couldn't expect him to stay in that dreary room," Mrs. Weasley explained absently as she waved her wand about straightening the corners of the room and tucking things away so everything would be a bit neater.

"It was fine for him before!" Ron protested.

"That was before he was awake to see what a mess it was!" Her logic was a little skewed, but neither was willing to call her on it.

"But where is Harry going to sleep?"

"We'll bring the extra matress downstairs. Now hush, it's time for bed," She said with a tone of finality.

"But mum-!"

"I said hush!" She ordered sternly, and Ron grumbled.

Edward watched the family dynamics amusedly. Ron was definitely a product of his mother's making, whether he realized it or not. The entire red-haired unit had a warmth about them that Edward couldn't help but smile at. This was reinforced when as Ron wished his mother goodnight she kissed him and he returned it, though his ears reddened self-consciously as he remembered that Edward was still in the room. Edward simply gave him a smile, and he hoped it didn't come off as a teasing one.

"Goodnight to you too Edward," She called from the doorway.

"Goodnight Mrs. Weasley," He watched her depart down the hallway, no doubt intending to repeat the evening process with the rest of her children.

Ron let out a long-suffering sigh that seemed designed to irritate Edward.

"Alright look, I know you're Hermione's cousin or whatever but that doesn't mean I'll treat you special or anything," He bluntly stated.

After all the shit he had just gone through with Dumbledore, Edward was just raring to hit something and Ron was proving to be a very tempting punching-bag option. Curling his fist, he managed to keep reign his face somewhat into a strange grimace-smile in light of Ron's rude attitude. He thought better of it, though it was annoying.

"Same goes for you. Just because you are friends of Hermione's doesn't mean that you can get away with mistreating her; at least not without some serious retribution," Edward threatened lightly, cracking his knuckles just for the effect. He took devilish glee at the flash fear he saw in the other boy's eyes. If only Edward had been around earlier when he had done her wrong, like at the Yule Ball and even back when they were first years and he had made fun of her. He sighed, that was probably ancient history to them, even though it was pretty fresh to Edward.

Edward had never fathomed what it must be like to have a younger sister until Hermione. Knowing her as well as he did, it was impossible for him to not care about her in a way reserved for close friends. Now with their imaginary relation, it was as though they really were as close as they felt, and it would be unnatural _not _to act on it. Overall it wasn't such a bad set-up, Edward decided. If he always got to threaten people like this he could get used to it.

"I would never hurt Hermione," Ron muttered defensively.

"Right, like when you called her a know-it-all?" Edward asked with a raised brow, referring to first year.

"I-We hardly even knew each other!" Ron flushed.

"Okay, well then _that_ makes it okay to tease other people," Edward said rolling his eyes. How immature could this kid get? He puffed out a sigh.

"Look, I'm just going to get some shut-eye. See you in the morning," The blond dismissed Ron and pulled himself into the bed, flipping over so that he was facing the wall instead of the fuming teen.

Ron grumbled around for a few moments, and Edward could feel the glare settled upon his neck. Frankly, he was used to much worse, and it wasn't too long before his eyes slowly blinked shut and he surrendered to sleep.

Hermione and Ginny said goodnight t Mrs. Weasley, and not two minutes afterwards, the twins silently entered their room with a steaming Ron behind them.

"I don't like your cousin, Hermione," Ron complained straightforwardly. The teen witch gave him an exasperated sigh. She might have known that they wouldn't get along easily. They were two of the most stubborn boys she'd ever met, and Ron's lack of decorum probably grated on Edward easily.

"Aww was ickle Ronnikins annoyed by an even ickle-ier blondie?" George teased, and Hermione smothered a laugh at Ron's indignity.

"I wasn't! He was just being all rude and-"

"Shh! We're connected!" Fred said, and the group leaned in close to the fleshy looking ear, any previous discussion forgotten.

"_-waited for you dear. Are they all asleep upstairs?" _Mr. Weasley's voice crackled through the magic ear. A snort could be heard, most likely from Sirius.

"_I highly doubt they're actually asleep, but at the very least they're in their rooms,"_ The black-haired man sounded more amused than anything.

"_Right, well what did you discover Albus?"_ Lupin asked.

"_He's a very clever boy, definitely one to watch for greatness,"_ The comment was made thoughtfully between two bites of tart.

"_Anything besides that? Like whether we can trust him or not?"_ Moody asked impatiently.

"_Well there will be plenty of time to decide that later, during the school year; I've enrolled him and he will start in September with the others." _

There were a few minutes of only soft munching. Hermione had to quell her racing excitement.

" _. . . Do you really think this is a good idea?"_ Tonks asked the question everyone else was thinking.

"_Frankly, no."_

There was a tense moment, the circle on the upper level all exchanged glances, and Ron looked fairly smug. Then they heard a swallow, and after a few seconds they realized he had taken a drink of tea.

"_I know it is a bad idea to eat this late at night, and yet I can't see to help myse-"_ He continued much to the frustration if everyone else.

"_No, we mean about enrolling Edward in school,"_ Mr. Weasley said showing his patience.

"_Oh, that,"_ There was another pause where he took a long sip of tea. The seconds seemed to just drag by, as they waited his final decision.

"_Yes, I think it is a good move, that boy could use a little normalcy and rest," _Dumbledore mused aloud.

"_And a little manners too,"_ Moody grumbled,

They could practically hear the quiet smile on Dumbledore's face.

"_I expect this will be a learning experience for all of us. . . . I for one am greatly looking forward to it,"_

With that statement, the conversation seemed to be closed. A few members made somewhat unhappy sounds, but they accepted Dumbledore's decision nonetheless.

"_I wonder if you could take him shopping to Diagon Alley. He had many things he needs for this upcoming year."_ There was a rustling of robes and a few mutters of "_Now where could it have gotten to . . ."_ before something hit the table with a small clinking sound.

"_Aha! This key will get him into the vault he needs. Tell him not to worry himself, because by the end of it, our trade will be most equivalent." _

"_What do you me-"_

"_Alas, I must be off. Thank you for the tart Molly, it was most delightful. Tata!"_ With a crack, the room fell silent, and the lack of eccentric old men was easy to hear through the ear.

"_That man . . ."_ They could sense whoever said it shaking their head.

"_Well, I don't know about you lot, but I'm going to bed," _Tonks said by way of good night.

"_Me too. A little sleep is what I really need right now,"_ Lupin followed her and they ascended the stairs together. There was a snort.

"_Not me. A good stiff drink is what I need," _Moody announced.

"_Here, here, I'll join you there,"_ Sirius said, probably more because drinking was fun instead of him really needing one to relax.

"_Molly dear, are you coming to bed?"_ Mr. Weasley asked.

"_In a bit. I want to get a few things set up before Harry comes. It's only a couple days away and I-"_

Upstairs Fred disconnected their line to the other ear with a bored face.

"I guess that's all we'll hear for tonight," Ginny whispered somewhat unhappily.

"That was kind of a waste," Ron said with a snort. Hermione ignored him completely, the cogs in her mind spinning rapidly as they sifted through new data. What exactly had Dumbledore said to him to entice Edward to come to Hogwarts? Especially since she knew how stubborn he was when it came to equivalence.

The simple fact that Edward was coming to Hogwarts, nearly through her for a loop. It was almost too fantastic to even imagine. She could share so much with him there, all the while getting to know him better.

"Oh well, Harry's coming in two days so something interesting is bound to happen," Ginny said with a smile. It really was unavoidable. Ron let out a groan though.

"Oh geez, what are we supposed to tell him about why we haven't been writing 'mione?" Ron asked, hoping she might have come up with a good reason.

"The truth, obviously. It wasn't within our power to do anything about it," She stated easily. Honestly, she probably would have only sent a few letters out of politeness. She had been struggling by the end of last year to find things to say to Ron and Harry, feeling the distance between them deeply, but with the way things were around the order, she didn't even have to worry about it. She felt a little guilty about her relief, though she did not regret it.

"Well that's going to go over _real _well," Ron grumbled.

"Do you have a better idea?" She asked him with a quirked brow.

"Well, let's say that it comes to light that we'd been kidnapped and tortured by Death Eaters all summer, so there was no way we could have written to him!" Ron said in a great reveal.

" . . . You're an idiot, Ron," Hermione said with a deadpanned expression, before she headed out the room, intent on getting some sleep before tomorrow. Ginny and the twins laughed in delight as Ron gave her retreating figure a grumpy look. The sounds of their teasing followed Hermione all the way to her room.

It wasn't until she was pulling out her dream journal, that she realized she didn't know if the dreams would continue or not. Now that Edward was here, would that change? She didn't know, but it upset her a little to think that she would no longer be a part of that. Then again, she had the real deal sleeping a few doors down. The thought made her smile and she knew she would be okay if the dreams stopped. Placing the yellow journal near on her nightstand, just in case she had a dream, she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

_A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. The heat was unbearable, but the excitement pumping through his body somehow made it easy to forget about the scorching temperature. His arms were quaking a little, a slow burn setting in his limbs as they were unused to supporting such an awkward position for so long._

_It was then that he heard the clicking of all too familiar footsteps and he willed his breath to steady._

"_I wonder where Ed has gone," The voice asked unnecessarily. He had to stifle a smile. _

_He heard the person move carefully around the room, in a manner that was too slow for his racing heart to handle. A few cupboards opened and shut, and he was glad he had chosen against going into one of those. Then the steps came closer to him and he tensed up._

"_I guess he isn't here," The voice trailed off, and he heard the person walk out of the room. He exhaled the breath he's been holding. That had been a close one._

"_Found you Edward!" He was so startled that he dropped out of his hiding spot in the framing of the table where he had been pressing himself into._

"_Are you okay!" She asked, fretting a little over him, but he brushed it off._

"_Aw Mom! How'd you find me?" He asked, curiosity overwhelming the slight ache in his arms._

"_A magician never reveals her secrets," She told him with a wink and a smile. He pouted and she just pulled him up, off the ground and out from underneath the table. It wouldn't be too long before he was too big for her to lift easily, (no matter how short he stayed,) and she treasured this time._

_He immediately smelled something tantalizing in the air, and whipped around to the table where there was a slice of apple pie waiting for him. So that was what she went to the cupboards for. The two of them having special time alone was rare, and he reveled in the feeling._

"_Why don't we have a slice, while we wait for your brother to come home?" She asked, providing two forks for him and herself. _

_He shot her a blinding smile. She always knew what to do and say to make him feel special._

"_Yes please, Mom,"_

_And in this moment, there was nothing else in the world he would rather be doing._

* * *

Hermione woke softly; the transition from her dreams into reality was a quiet one. One moment she was in the kitchen and the next she was staring at the rumpled white sheets next to her head. The sunlight was a soft glow, mostly halted by the dusty velvet curtains sans at the edges where the light seeped through.

She lay in bed for a few minutes, soaking up the warmth of the memory. It wasn't necessarily uncommon for her to have a happy memory of Edward's, it was just that they were far between. He had been through much hardship in his life, so it really was no wonder that sometimes the bad seemed to overwhelm the good. Though after waking from a dream like this one, she couldn't help but feel that they didn't. The warmth from these was enough to offset even some of the most horrible memories.

Stretching her hand lazily over to the journal beside her, she scrambled along the surface until she reached the leather edges. She propped herself up, being quiet as to not wake the sleeping girl in the room, though she knew that Ginny shared the same trait with her brother that allowed her to sleep through any deal of racket.

She smiled when she saw the yellow cover. When she had received her first journal, she could hardly imagine filling the hundreds of pages. A year of dreams can really do a lot to change that. She was amazed when she managed to finish it, and she went back to Mr. Faustine for another one. He had explained to her that the type of journal was a set of sorts, and he had given her the next one in line which had been a reddish-orange one. This was the fifth in the set and she was close to finishing it, so it was a good thing that she was going back to Hogwarts so she could get another one during a Hogsmedes trip.

If it followed the patter she imagined it did, then the next would be a yellow-green. It was a rainbow, essentially, or perhaps a color wheel with how the bridges were.

She finished up the entry quickly, this being one of the more shorter, simpler ones.

Quietly opening her trunk, she pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple top with a jacket to go over it. Stepping down the hallway, she was surrounded by snores coming from Ron's room that followed her all the way downstairs.

In the kitchen she was greeted by the image of Mrs. Weasley, chatting amiably with Edward who was nursing a steaming mug of tea. He seemed so unwound, his hair in a loose ponytail that spilled the gold strands all over his back. The sweatshirt he was wearing was too big for him and it slipped to the side on his flesh shoulder, revealing his peach colored skin. If it weren't for the gloves and socks, she would say that he appeared to be totally at ease.

She had to smother a smile as she noticed how many times he had to roll Ron's sweatpants up. The lanky red-head certainly wasn't short by any means.

Schooling her features she entered the kitchen, and took a seat on the stool beside him.

"Good morning," She greeted both of them.

"Good mornining," He returned with a nod, shuffling a little in his chair so he was facing more towards her.

"My, aren't we up early Hermione? Unlike that lot upstairs," Mrs. Weasley said gesturing with her spatula to the upper floors.

"They must have inherited their sleeping habits from their father I suppose," She muttered absentmindedly as she flipped the bacon.

"Did you sleep well?" Hermione asked taking note of the slight bags under Edward's eyes, and pursing her lips. What memory had he dreamed about?

"Not really, I suppose I must still be adjusting to the time change," He said stirring his tea with a spoon.

"Well did you have a good dream at least?" She asked, trying to keep the conversation sounding normal for Mrs. Weasley.

"No, I didn't dream at all really," He replied honestly, leveling her with his curious gaze.

Her eyes widened. He didn't have a dream about her last night? What happened? Seeing his look, it was obvious he was discreetly wondering if she had stopped getting the dreams too.

"That's too bad. My dreams were good though," She responded, hoping that she didn't come off as being too stiff. She watched him nod minimally to show that he understood. The question now was why she was still getting dreams and he was not.

"Oh? What did you dream about?" He asked inquisitively.

"It was a very hot day I was playing hide and seek. I was caught, but then I get some apple pie, so it was okay. It really was a happy one," She replied, and she watched his face flip from puzzlement, to remembrance and then to finally settle into some kind of wistful sadness.

"That is a good one," He agreed, no doubt his mind years away, back to that sweltering day.

"Better than mine in any case," Mrs. Weasley butted in, reminding them that they were not alone, she turned around to talk to them, the skillet continued to cook without her via magic.

"I dreamt that all the grocery stores were closed, and my family needed food. We found a fruit tree and decided to move into it so we wouldn't have to worry about finding food anymore. All of a sudden everybody turned into monkeys except for me, and I kept trying to sweep the tree down, but the bristles kept breaking in the bark, and all my best brooms were ruined," She explained with a distant, but unhappy look on her face.

"Wow, that is a weird one," Edward replied, with the weird image of the redhead family as monkeys floating in his head.

"Um, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione pointed to the skillet which now had a darker plume of smoke rising from it.

"Oh, dear," She muttered, quickly whipping her wand around to save the food.

Gradually the rest of the order drifted down at intervals, with yawns and weary expressions. By that time Molly had finished making her large breakfast. Edward and Hermione moved to the table to join everyone else who was already seated. Ron was sleeping over his bowl of cereal on one of his hands, nodding in and out of conversation. Fred and George managed to look chipper as ever somehow, though Ginny was leveling them with evil looks and envious muttering. The adults were looking a little better with the exception of Sirius who was rocking some serious bedhair, with a green face and what was diagnosable as a hangover. Edward smiled at the fact that they didn't seem to have a spell to cure that particular ailment. Amusingly enough, Moody seemed to be just fine, and even taking a few sips from his questionable looking flask much to the disapproving glances from the Weasley matriarch. After a few minutes of tired talking, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat.

"Family, I have an announcement to make," He declared getting the attention of the younger group. Fred surreptitiously knocked Ron's elbow at this precise time, making the younger boy fall face first into his milky oats. He gurgled for a few moments before actually pulling his head out of the soggy mess. Hermione had a split-second worry that Ron would actually drown in his bowl, but that was eased when he came up spurting milk everywhere and she joined in the laughter.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you!" He spluttered looking from Fred to George demandingly, unsure of who to blame for this specific prank.

"Ronald! Don't swear!" Mrs. Weasley gave him a stern look.

"But mom! They-"

"Hush, and you two-" She whipped around to the ginger twins who were poorly smothering their laughter, though that faded when they saw her look.

"I'm just going to have to keep you so busy you won't be able to cause any trouble, won't I?" She asked, and they shook their heads frantically.

"It would crush-"

"-our fragile and delicate-"

"-spirits," They said tragically.

"You'll both be cleaning the entire attic, with toothbrushes, by hand; and that means no magic whatsoever!"

"But mom!-"

"-We didn't do anything!"

"Yeah, right. I think they should do my cleaning too since I'm the victim of their cruelty!" Ron snorted, trying, unsuccessfully to wipe all the disintegrated cereal off of his face.

"Oh, please," Mrs. Weasley said waving her wand to disappear the mess on Ron's face. "Such melodrama," she teased easily, and the kitchen was filled with mirth.

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat once more, and everyone reigned in their laughter, though the smiles remained.

"As I was trying to say, it has been decided that Edward will attend Hogwarts with you all starting next term." There were feigned sounds of surprise around the table, and Edward wondered how the adults managed not to notice the falseness.

"Why aren't you going back to Germany to go to school? Or be tutored, er, whatever?" Tonks asked waving her hands.

"Things have been a little rough at home; a break is a good idea. Besides, how could I miss out on spending quality time with my younger cousin," He asked, ruffling her hair, much to her embarrassment. She slapped his hand away, but his smile was intact.

It was a few moments before the entirety of his statement sunk in.

"Do you mean younger than the sun-"

"-Or younger than you-"

"-because you can't be older-"

"-than an ickle second year."

There was a tense few minute in which Hermione face-palmed, and Edward looked like a volcano.

"Say that again?" He demanded with a dangerous look on his face.

"Well it's just that you're so short and all-"

Then Mt. Edward erupted.

He leapt over the table and grabbed both of the unsuspecting boys by surprise, and shook them like rag-dolls.

"Who are you calling a pint-sized piece of lint that is so small that not even a vacuum cleaner would pick it up and it would just sit on the floor making it perpetually dirty?" He demanded as he stood atop the wooden table, not even minding the scene he was making.

"Who said that?" Ron asked confusedly.

Most of the adults were looking too shocked to do much of anything, except for Moody, who rescued the boys with a bit of spellwork, before levitating Edward off of the table, and a few inches into the air where he struggled helplessly. He kicked and screamed, but he wasn't affecting anything. The twins sat in a dazed looking heap, where their mother fawned over them for a few minutes.

"Put me down you peg-legged freak!" Edward shouted, and a tick developed right above Moody's brow.

"Why should I? With such a short temper like you have, it isn't safe to put you down," The Auror said, unaware that he used a trigger word.

Hermione sighed. Steam was practically pouring out of Edward's ears. Why did he always get into situations like this? They really weren't that hard to avoid.

"Scared I'll put you in your place? You cheap excuse of a pirate," Edward taunted, and for once, Moody gave into his wants and decided to partake in a little recreational fun. Perhaps it was due to the fact that this had been building since yesterday, fueled by the edging mistrust he's been nursing since he'd arrived, passed out on their doorstep that week or so ago.

"It's about time somebody knocked some manners into that blond skull of yours," Moody gave him an all-too-eager smile, which Edward was more than delighted to return.

"Alastor!" Mrs. Weasley said with an unhappy expression.

"Oh let 'em duel. I think both of them will be better off when they've let out a little steam," Sirius said easily, and the woman turned her frown on him, her disapproving-rays on full-blast.

"I think it's a fine idea, they've been cooped up in the house for far too long; besides, I'm sure Moody won't use anything too terrible on him," Lupin decided. The looks the other members of the table gave him made him realize that there may be faults in his logic.

"Fine, take it outside boys; I won't have you mucking about in my kitchen!" The red-haired woman announced, though she did not seem very pleased with the outcome.

The backyard area of number twelve Grimmauld, was less of a backyard, and more of a long strip of land covered on dead grass. A few patches of green were sprinkled in here and there, though mostly it was a barren area. The surrounding fence rose up about twenty feet, reaching towards the sky, making the entire area feel smaller than it already was. Hermione was sure that there were all kinds of enchantments protecting them from being seen by neighbors, or found by Death Eaters, the wall was the only visible sign of this protection.

"Edward, you're not going to use your alchemy, are you?" She asked, as she walked with him over to his side of the "yard."

"Nah, I think I'll just get a little exercise; besides, I don't think I'll need it," He said with a wolfish smile.

"Well, be careful; you've seen how strong he is from my dreams, besides, you've never fought against someone who uses magic before," Hermione tried to ply him with her logic.

"He's human though, right? Er, peg-leg aside." He gestured vaguely to the wooden stump.

"Well yes, but-"

"Then he shouldn't be any harder to pummel than anyone else I've dealt with," He pointed out with a shrug.

"And your plan is . . .?"

"I already told you; pummel him!" He declared, and she sighed.

"Of course, what was I expecting? The answer was so obvious." Sarcasm may be the lowest form of wit, but a situation that uses low levels of intelligence more than calls for it.

"He brought this upon himself. I'm just giving him what he's been asking for! Making fun of me, and always talking about how he was going to make me 'learn manners,' well I'll teach him not to underestimate the youngest state alchemist in history," His expression was one of the creepier smiles she had ever seen, and she couldn't resist another sigh.

"Boys. Honestly, sometimes I just don't even know," She walked away while shaking her head, and he smiled after her.

The alchemist pulled his arms and stretched a little before pumping himself up and down on his toes. On the other side, Moody just drew another long draught from his flask. Lupin stood hesitantly between the two, looking between the both of them, and wondering why he had been voted as the referee for this match.

"Wands at the ready," He spoke, and Moody pulled a dark piece of wood from his robe. To the surprise of the viewers, which everyone had turned out to see the match, Edward was just looking around I a bored manner. The teen made no move to draw out his weapon at all. There were a few moments where everyone just stared at Edward in askance. He then turned his amber eyes onto Lupin with a curious expression.

"Aren't you going to start it?" He inquired. The other man jumped at the question. Perhaps the blond boy was planning something, yes that made sense. He was going to launch a sneak attack, or maybe he was simply messing with Moody's mind, trying to keep hi guessing. Lupin could see the cogs turning in the Auror's mind as he scanned his young opponent.

"Duelists at the ready . . ."

They each stood poised at the tipping point. Lupin glanced between them one last time and he had a sinking feeling in his gut that neither of them would be pulling their punches today.

Lupin chopped the air is a swift, decisive motion, shouting "Begin!" before jumping back to safety.

Moody didn't leave Edward any time to anticipate or prepare an attack, he shot a few spells with wordless magic towards to younger man the minute Lupin had stepped away. The blond moved quickly, like a snake, and dodged around the shots of light. They were absorbed harmlessly into the wood of the fence a few hundred yards behind them, though in the fading light it was clear to the adults which spells he had tried to use.

"Moody! Are you trying to kill the boy?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.

"Mostly maim him, though death may be an unfortunate after effect," He replied distractedly as he shot off several more high-level curses and jinxes. The woman just shook her head and went inside, not wanting to support this garish display.

"Whoo! Go Moody!" Ron cheered from the sidelines.

"Ten sickles on Edward," Fred offered his younger brother, who had a shocked look on his face.

"Seriously? You're betting against Moody? Finally, a bet I can't lose!" He shook the other's hand with a happy smile, unconcerned that a single spell had not landed on their intended target yet.

It was almost fantastic to watch the younger man move. A spell would zoom through the air, curving and weaving towards its target and just inches away from impact, said target had disappeared, like dust in a windstorm.

"Wow, your cousin is fast," Ginny commented with wide eyes, tracing his figure as it moved across the deadened grass.

Hermione smirked uncharacteristically. Edward wasn't even going all out.

"You haven't seen anything yet," She replied with a smile.

Moody growled in minute frustration as he kept flinging spells towards the young man, but to no avail. The teen was easily side-stepping them, and gradually he was inching himself closer and closer to the Auror. Even more annoying was the fact that the blond had yet to even draw his wand!

Moody was trying to push Edward into revealing his hand. He knew the teen was trying to get closer to him, but to what end? Sure, it was true that wizards were at more of a disadvantage when they fought up close, but the same problem applied to Edward. Why did he expect to be unaffected by the debilitating closeness?

This was not your usual wizard duel. In fact Moody wouldn't even call it that. It was a game of muggle dodgeball. The auror was unused to fighting like this, for heaven's sake! His opponent hadn't used a single spells. That in itself was what distinguished a wizard's duel; the exchange and blocking of spells.

Deciding to end this obnoxious game once and for all, Moody cast a complicated net of spells, intent on cornering the young man so he could deliver the coup d'etat. Just to be sure, he threw in one that would be drawn to the target until it hit; a seeking-spell with an unfortunate after-effect of being frozen.

Spiraling light spun closer and closer to their target. Moody watched as Golden eyes tracked their movements. Edward dodged, the first few, but then he noticed the seeker that followed his movements and there was a ring of other spells closing in simultaneously. The realization entered his mind that he could not dodge this.

The glowing spells were mere centimeters away from its desired target, and the onlookers held their breaths.

The expected impact did not happen. Instead they were greeted to the fairly awe-inspiring sight of Edward jumping clean out of the ring of spells, and landing on his hand, before falling into a crouch. Though he had escaped the net of spells, the seeker was tenacious, and still intent on him. He threw himself once more into the air, executing a long line of back-handsprings mixed with flips away from the spell, which persisted in chasing him. To avoid it, he just continued to flip his body around, gaining more and more momentum, which in turn made him spin even harder into his gymnastics. Coupled with this feat, was a trail of shouted curses that were almost too dirty to hear. Fred and George each covered one of Ginny's ears as they watched with open-jaws as Edward flipped past them with dizzying speed.

"Well that's one way to use a light-bulb," Tonks remarked. Lupin just nodded, looking vaguely ill. On the other hand, Sirius, who was looking green before, was looking more excited than anything, the last remnants of his hangover being cured by a hearty British breakfast and the animated events of the morning.

Hermione's gaze was glued to Edward, and she felt nauseous just thinking about how many turns he'd done. It was then when she realized the impending doom of the wall.

The yard was impressively long across, but Edward had already flipped through most of it.

"Edward! Watch out for the wall!" She shouted frantically, trying to warn him of the impending doom.

"Somebody save him from splatting on the rock!" Lupin demanded, but no one made a move, too focused on the rotating blond.

"No one's close enough!" Tonks replied a little frustrated. Besides that, Edward was moving at a rate faster than any spell could go.

"Stop jumping Edward!" Ron yelled, and Hermione gave him an annoyed look.

"He's got too much momentum to stop with how much ground is left, besides, with the spell behind him, he won't surrender," She replied shortly, more frustrated than anything.

"He's not going to be able to slow down in time," Ginny commented, horrified.

He wasn't more than a meter away from the wall, when he flung himself, feet first towards it with a gargantuan amount of force than had been collected from his continued motion. His automail creaked from the pressure, and his other knee nearly buckled, however; he pushed back, forcing the motion of his body to spring the other way, and he bounced off the wall to the ground, landing with a summersault onto the barren earth. He rose shakily too his feet. His entire field of vision was blurred and wouldn't stop moving. Closing his eyes for a few seconds he held still as he tried to center himself. He opened them and blinked a few times. It was then that he noticed the spell was still flying towards him, having looped upward and followed his path back down the wall, instead of smashing into it harmlessly as expected.

"What is wrong with that thing!" He asked, breaking out in an unsteady run, almost losing his footing entirely more than a few times.

It looked like a drunken race to the spectators, and if Edward hadn't been going so fast earlier with his flips, gaining extra ground on the spell, they knew he would have been caught by it already.

Gradually though, his steps gained confidence and became steady, and once more he was plowing down the yard. He was in the exact same position as before though. Then he spied Moody a bit ahead of him and a devilish smile broke out across his face.

To say that Moody was surprised to see the blond coming barreling towards him, was an understatement. The auror recognized what a brilliant move it was, but it just didn't make sense. Moody would just move out of the way, before Edward could attack him or the spell could hit him. He moved left and right, but Edward followed like a bull with the color red, a determined and fairly malicious smirk plastered to his face. The yard really wasn't more than a meter or two across lengthwise, which did not leave the auror with much space to work with.

Moody had never hated the fact that apparating was illegal in a duel until now.

Steeling himself, he prepared to jinx the young man before he could do anything before disabling the other spell. The blond was fast approaching.

Seeming to sense the other man's plans Edward gave one last burst of speed. Just as Moody shouted "rictusempra!" Edward slid on his knees clean through the other man's legs, the spell ghosting past his antenna, and singeing a few hairs. Only reflex saved a shocked-looking Moody from the rogue spell, creating a quick shield that dispersed it.

Realizing the position he was in, his enemy behind him, he whipped around quickly. Unfortunately, Edward had pulled himself onto his haunches in perfect time to sweep the other man's legs clean out from under him. The older man landed with a hard 'oomph' and Edward took no time to kick his wand out of his grasp and pin the other man to the ground by his neck.

"Come on, you know you wanna say it," Edward panted, gloating with a nasty look on his face.

Moody held his silence for a few moments, before he finally relinquished.

"Fine. I yield," He managed, somewhat stiffly as the blond jumped up and ran over to Hermione laughing he whole way.

"Told ya I'd get him." The cocky smile jumped her out of her shock and it turned into a scolding expression.

"You idiot! What if you had hit the wall?" She demanded, swiping at his head.

"But I didn't!" He responded ducking away.

The adrenaline was draining away and with it his energy went too. The toll of the fantastic feats he'd just done set it, and a sight burn in his muscles made itself aware. He flopped down on the earth, his breath still coming out in pants.

"Whew! That was some good exercise!" He exclaimed stretching his arms out over his head.

"Blimey, I don't think I'd call that exercise mate," Ron said with disbelief coloring his tone, as though he couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.

"Well whatever you call it, that's ten clean sickles Ron," Fred grinned in a vulpine fashion as he held out his hand is askance.

Ron muttered something unintelligible as he rummaged around in his pockets before counting out most of his allowance.

"It's been a pleasure doing business with you," the twin said, ignoring the glare he received in return.

"That was really cool! Where did you learn how to move like that?" Ginny asked, and Edward looked a little uncomfortable by her intense gaze.

"My teacher taught me," He replied, though he shuddered at the memory.

"That's impressive, I haven't seen anyone get a one-up on Moody in a long time," Tonks complimented with a wink.

"I wish we learned how to kick ass at our school," Ginny said looking somewhat sulky at the fact they didn't have a class like that.

"Well my teacher always thought it was important to learn how to defend ourselves, no matter what the situation was."

Moody had risen and come over with an inscrutable look in his eyes.

"Elric! Why didn't you use any magic?" Moody demanded more than asked.

"Well it's not exactly easy to do magic when you don't have a wand," Edward replied, rolling his eyes.

The others stared gob-smacked for a few moments.

"So you challenged me knowing that you didn't have a wand? Me, someone who fights dark wizards for a living, and does it damn well?" Moody asked, staring the other boy down.

"It's not like I needed it in the end, did I?" He asked with a cheeky smile, and Moody's expression broke into a dangerous grin.

"I think we'll get along just fine, you have some serious guts kid," He said clapping the glaring teen on the back before heading back into the house, the other adults following him in after a few words of praise.

"I'm not a kid, you peg-legged freak," Edward called half-heartedly.

"You mean you were serious earlier when you said you were older than Hermione?" Ron blurted somewhat rudely.

Both Edward and Hermione exchanged looks that said, 'Yes, he really is ruder than you thought," and "I'm sorry you've been dealing with this for so long."

"Yes, he's older, though only by a few months," Hermione answered this time, and Edward snorted.

"If you call seven a few, then yeah,"

"So does that mean you'll be a fifth year with Hermione and Ron?" Ginny asked curiously, and Edward smiled.

"You bet. I get to harass her all year," He joked with a smile, and Ron looked unhappy at the development, though he was ignored for the most part.

"So what happened to your wand mate?" George asked curiously.

"Did you break it beating up some poor-"

"-bastard who called you sma-"

Hermione clapped her hands over both twin's mouths, and she gave a somewhat nervous laugh at the dark energy pouring from Edward.

"_Call me little, I dare you." _The dark waves said.

The twins abruptly remembered what happened the last time they had insinuated that Edward was small in any capacity and figured out that it was a trigger of some sort. They exchanged glances. They would make use of this later, but for now it would be better to back off.

"So then what did happen to your wand," Ginny asked.

"Lost it," Edward replied simply, shrugging his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture.

The others seemed to mull over his answer a bit before finding nothing wrong with it and accepting it as truth.

"We had better get inside before Mum decides we all need extra cleaning to keep busy, " Ginny said turning back towards the house, the twins and Ron on their younger sibling's heel.

"Come on you, get up." Hermione extended her hands for him to grab. He snatched her wrists but instead of pulling himself up, he pulled her down onto the ground beside him.

"Wha-!" She exclaimed, more out of surprise than annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a mean person. I get that," He said dismissing anything she was about to say.

"We should be getting back inside," Hermione protested half-heartedly. The sky was a deep blue with little sheep-like clouds dotting here and there. The sun was an easing presence, just warm enough to be noticed and appreciated, but not so hot that it was unbearable.

"So eager to start cleaning?" He asked her with a lazy expression on his face which clearly belayed what he thought on the matter.

Edward already had a thin sheen of sweat from his gymnastics earlier and it glistened on his skin in collective water droplets, like a fresh dew. The moistness didn't bother her as she sat shoulder-to-shoulder with him, because feeling him was amazing enough in its own right.

"I suppose I could spare you a few moments," She teased lightly and he snorted.

"Glad you're feeling so magnanimous," He said with a chuckle.

The both fell silent as they stared into the depthless sky.

"You know, it is the same sky," Edward spoke quietly after a few moments of silence; she glanced over at him curiously.

"What were you expecting? Was ours supposed to be a different color or something?"

"That's not it, it's just the more I stare at it, the more I keep expecting to be back home. It's just so familiar. . . I can't tell you how many times I've looked up at it, and now I'm staring at it from an entirely different world."

"It's just odd." He finished a little lamely at the end. Hermione nodded slowly in understanding.

"So why do you think you've stopped having dreams?" Hermione asked rolling over onto her elbows so she could look at him properly.

"I don't know. They've stopped since I've arrived," He explained.

"You didn't dream about me while you were unconscious?"

He shook his head at her question.

"It's just strange that I'm still getting them and you're not," Hermione said with a puzzled expression.

"Beats me." Honestly, he had a clue, but he didn't want to bring up the sensitive subject. It was logical to assume the gate had taken it as he had passed through, knowing that he did value his relationship with Hermione. He couldn't be too bothered by it at the moment because he was with her, here and now, and a trade like that was more than fair, though later he knew it would come back to haunt him. His dreams of her had been the only thing to rescue him from insomnia. The relative normalcy of her life mixed with her quick-mind and strength of character had eased his soul, and it meant more to him than he'd even be able to say.

It wasn't much of a stretch to say that she had saved his life. If not for her, he would at the very least be in a very dark place right now.

Which was why he didn't want to saddle her with more disappointment in him when she found out what he had done. She didn't deserve that.

"Maybe you have something that you didn't have before," She hypothesized with her eyebrows drawn together.

"Equivalent exchange?" He asked her with an amused look on his face. It seemed she had latched on to the alchemic philosophy as well.

She nodded, "It only makes sense."

"Well what do you think I recieved?" He asked her, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

"How am I supposed to know?" She asked and he shrugged. She flopped back onto the ground.

The pair was united together by their skin-contact. They lay on the ground chatting idly about things in both of their world. The comments were light ones about Mustangs impossible skirt-fantasy's, and Viktor Krum's butchering of her name and even some simpler things, that they wanted to ask simply because they could.

"I know it's funny after seeing so many of your memories, but I still don't know you're favorite color. Stop laughing," He said, though as he spoke, little chuckles were escaping from his lips too. The sun had sunk further in the sky and it had turned the light more golden.

"It's just that I thought you'd be able to guess with all your science and logic," Hermione teased.

"Well do you know mine?" He asked challengingly.

"Red and black because you think it looks badass. So what do you think mine are?" She asked, ignoring his deflated ego that she could figure it out so easily and he couldn't. Then again, when you wear the color all the time . . . That's it!

"Lilac color, like your dress at the Yule Ball," He replied triumphantly, and she stared blankly, a small blush crept up her cheeks and she was glad that they were both staring at the sky and not each other.

"You saw that then?" She asked unnecessarily.

"Um, yeah, I did."

"You even remembered the dress." In her own mind, she pictured it, and there really was no denying it was very pretty. There was something in the fact that Edward had seen her in it that made it the feelings in her stomach feel weird.

"How much have you seen?" She asked the question that had been gnawing at her mind since finding out about their identical situations. He gave her a mysterious smile before he motioned for her to follow him into the house. They snuck up carefully into his shared room with Ron, careful not to alert anyone else of their presence. Edward made a beeline for his bed, pulling out his familiar red cloak and had begun rummaging through the pockets.

Hermione shook her head a little ruefully as she easily spotted which side Ron was living in. Clothes were lying in crumpled heaps, and several choice magazines were poorly concealed under the mattress where they had been crammed. She rolled her eyes. Obvious was the word, and the definition, was Ronald Weasley.

"Aha! Here it is," He exclaimed triumphantly, holding a thick, brown notebook in his hands. He gestured for her to come closer.

"Like any scientist, I like to record what I learn." He flipped through the book quickly, before handing it to her.

She held it gingerly, as though concerned it would disintegrate if handled too roughly, before carefully opening it to the first few pages. Edward's handwriting was impossibly small, and she had to squint just to make out the general shape of the characters. Despite Edward's seemingly coarse nature, his handwriting was neat and almost elegant. The looping slant filling every page to the brink, crawling up the paper sideways and diagonally in order to use every spare inch. Hermione now saw why he only had a single book for a whole year of memories. Not to mention the fact Edward was probably more straight-forward with his facts than she was. It was then she realized something.

"It's written in English," She remarked somewhat surprised, and he shrugged.

"What better language? At home no one would be able to read it."

She scanned the first couple entries with a cursory eye.

"_Sometime in December, year four,_

_Finally found both my hat and scarf. It seems I never can have one without losing the other. It is a relief to have them both with the cold weather coming up. Made a new friend in a foreign place, though his intentions seem different than mine. Still have not had any progress in the most recent crossword. Considering the idea that I may not be able to understand it without a better vocabulary, thus I need to hit the library in the next city."_

Hermione blinked.

"You coded it?" She asked incredulously, hardly believing her life needed to be so heavily coded.

"Yeah, couldn't let anyone else read what I was seeing, in the off chance someone figured out the language, it couldn't hurt to code it too," Edward spoke nonchalantly.

Having seen her fair share of Edward's coding methods via the dreams, she knew that he wrote them in the form of travel logs because he was always travelling so much. Even though she's seen examples of his codes before, she couldn't make a lick of sense in what she read. Alchemists used grand metaphors that could usually only be understood if you already knew what you were looking for. Scanning the top, she figured that meant she was in fourth year in this entry, and it was January if that could be trusted. Casting her mind back, that time had all been so hectic that she could hardly remember the details. Then a particular phrase caught her eye.

"'_Making a new friend in a foreign place',_ you're talking about Viktor aren't you?" She asked, and she felt satisfaction at his pleased nod.

"Precisely. What else do you see?" He asked, urging her to continue.

"Well, at that time, we were still working on figuring out the second task if I remember correctly, that's what you meant by crossword puzzle, but I don't get the rest," She shook her head.

"You're right about the first part, as for the mention of vocabulary, I was referencing the period of time where you thought it may have been a different language that was spoken from the egg," He pointed out and a feeling of understanding set in her.

The metaphors were rather simple ones, but to an outsider all of this would be a useless travel log. She flipped though the next few entries, finding them in a similar format, with the estimated month and year at the top. It surprised her, (as well as embarrassed her,) to see references all the way back to her fingerpainting class in primary school.

"What are the hat and scarf supposed to symbolize? I see they're referenced quite a lot," She said pointing to the page. Somehow the way he wrote the objects personified them, and she got the feeling he often found them obnoxious and hard to keep ahold of.

"Isn't it obvious? It's Ron and Harry," He explained, and laughter bubbled up in her stomach.

"I see now," She remarked with a smile, as she wound down from her chuckles. Hard to keep ahold of really was an understatement when it came to the two of them.

"So every time you mention the weather, you're talking about the seriousness of our situations?" She inquired, and he nodded. Again, it really was so simple now that she had the equation. Without it though, she would probably still be floundering.

"So am I correct in assuming that your dreams of came out of order, like mine of you did?" He wondered, and she jumped as she realized that she should probably show him her side of things and she motioned for him to follow her.

"Yes, exactly. You got a some of everything I guess," She stepped into her shared room with Ginny, glad that it was still clean.

"Yeah, bits of everything sunk through eventually; though I do have to say that I know more about some things than others," He said, spying the amber journal on her nightstand. She handed it to him wordlessly; his own was still clutched tightly in her hand.

Edward took a moment to admire her handwriting and snort that his story had wound up in such a pretty book. He skimmed most of the entries, flipping through the pages quickly. He paused on the last and most recent one she had dreamt last night. The smile was soft for a precious few seconds before it turned stony and hard. Before she could say anything about it, he had turned to her with a question.

"This doesn't seem like a lot, was this all there was? How long have you been having the dreams?" He asked in scientist mode.

"No, I have four others, and I suppose they've been going on for a little under a year now," She replied keeping the facts to the point as well as she could. A look of concentration possessed his face.

"So that means they started at the same time them, how particular . . . it must have been . . ." He trailed off, but nothing else could be said as a call interrupted them.

"Hermione? Edward? Are you upstairs? It's time for lunch!" Ginny's voice echoed up from below, and they finally realized how much time had really passed while they were sitting and chatting outside.

"Wow, I can't believe it's already half-past twelve," She remarked, stirring them out of their serious mood. Much of the day was already gone.

"Time certainly flies. I think I'm long overdue for a shower, tell Mrs. Weasley I'll be down in a bit," He requested and she nodded, before heading downstairs to give him privacy. There was a slight twisting in her gut that resisted being separated from him but she squashed it, not liking the lack of control that showed in herself.

Hermione gave herself a little shake before entering the kitchen.

"Wotcher, there you are! We were half-thinking you'd gone and disappeared on us!" Tonks greeted her with a smile. A silver platter was stacked high with delectable looking sandwiches that looked like they would hit the spot nicely. Everyone was already seated with the exception of Moody, Sirius and Lupin who were all absent from the table, probably prepping to fetch Harry the next day, and Mr. Weasley, who was at work.

"Ooeres yeh 'ousin?" Ron asked, giving everyone a good view of his half-chewed food as he spoke.

"Ron, that's disgusting. Don't speak with your mouth full, please" Hermione chastised. Ginny nodded in firm agreement looking mournfully at her plate before pushing it away, no longer having an appetite after seeing that. The other boy just rolled his eyes, and swallowed.

"Whatever; I asked where your cousin was," He said ignoring what she said for the most part.

"He's taking a shower."

"I'll bet it feels good for the dear after so long," Mrs. Weasley commented, quickly magic-ing a few sandwich halves onto Hermione's plate.

"You wouldn't be saying that if I didn't shower for a week," Ron muttered somewhat childishly.

"You choose not to shower though, Edward really didn't have a choice in the matter," Hermione said, making Ron's ears warm up.

"Besides, we've all had a wiff-"

"-of Ode De Ron-"

"-and the verdict is in-"

"-that it really doesn't need to ferment for a week-"

"-a day is already too much-"

"-really-"

"-honestly-"

"-unquestionably-"

"-without a doubt," The twins punctuated the sentence by holding each other's noses and waving the air with their hands.

"Oh shut up!" Ron exclaimed heatedly, looking down into his plate embarrassedly.

"Boys, stop teasing your brother," Mrs. Weasley scolded, and Hermione smiled at the normalcy in the red-haired family. It really was the same old song and dance every day, and it was a comfort to her to have something so reliable like that.

"We were planning on going to Diagonalley all together the day after they pick up Harry, so don't worry about getting your school supplies, dear," Mrs. Weasley told her, before the other woman hesitated a moment.

"Is Edward's home life, er, difficult?" She asked carefully, knowing what a delicate situation it may be.

Understatement of the year right there. The brunette girl desperately hoped that her face hadn't belayed anything though, and she switched to a false smile, lined with curiosity.

"Not particularly, why do you ask?" Hermione wondered innocently.

"It's just that Dumbledore gave him funds for his things, and he usually only does that for students who have a difficult time affording things," She winced a little as it came out. The teen let out a breath, glad that nothing had been discovered. Before Hermione had time to formulate an answer to the red-haired woman's question, one was provided.

"No, I'm helping him with a few things in exchange for schooling and other expenses," Edward explained by way of greeting as he entered the room. Overall, he was looking more relaxed and agreeable than any of them had seen him since his arrival. He was wearing his black pants coupled with his silver lined jacket and black tank-top. As per usual, the gloves were in place on his hands. His hair was undone though, and still damp by the look of it. Running the towel through it a few more times, he flicked it over to the coat rack so it could dry before he sat down next to Hermione.

"These look really good, thank you," Edward remarked with a small smile as he tucked in.

"You're welcome, it's good to know my work is appreciated," Mrs. Weasley said with meaningful looks towards her children. They all ignored it.

"What kind of things are you helping with?" Tonks asked curiously.

"He wanted some help translating a few books that were written in German. Apparently he's a little rusty," Edward explained, exaggerating the truth minimally. He felt proud when he noticed Hermione's eyes widen and he knew she had seen the truth beneath his words. She really was brilliant.

"That's a good deal, I thought he'd be having you swabbing the halls," the pink-haired woman said with a grin.

"With how many halls the school has, he wouldn't have any time to learn anything," Ginny pointed out, sharing in the smile.

"I still wonder how Filch manages to do it, especially without magic," Ron commented as he chewed thoughtfully.

Edward inwardly rolled his eyes. Children raised in magic really had no scope of how much could be accomplished without it. He had seen enough fantastic things from civilians to know that extra skills weren't all it took to do something amazing.

Hermione groaned, "Haven't any of you read _Hogwarts: A History_?" She before asked before receiving mirroring headshakes from children and adults alike. When Edward nodded, she gave him a small smile.

"_That doesn't count since you didn't actually read it yourself," _She informed him in Amestrian to the curious gaze of the others present.

"_Well it's not like I had ample opportunity when I was back in Amestris," _He responded with a snort. She just shook her head.

"_You have ample opportunity now." _Inwardly she laughed as the familiar excited glint entered his eyes.

"_In fact, I remember hearing that the Black family library is pretty impressive, perhaps we could check it out later,"_ Now she was just teasing him.

"_After lunch?" _

Hermione smiled and nodded before turning back to the others, who were giving her blatantly inquisitive looks. She ignored them.

"If you had read that book, then you would know that there are enchantments that clean the halls. Filch only has to do minimal maintenance, and picking up some of the smaller things that the spell misses," She explained knowledgeably.

"And here I was feeling bad for the poor bloke!" Ron said, feeling miffed.

"I'm sure it's not exactly the most desired position, and probably very lonely-"

"He's got a cat," The other boy shrugged, and Hermione let out a sigh.

"Sometimes Ron . . . Sometimes. . ." She trailed off.

"What?"

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley for lunch," Hermione said rising from the table, Edward quickly joining her.

"Aren't you going to eat any more?" The woman asked, gesturing to the plate hopefully. She nodded approvingly when Edward grabbed two extra pieces to take upstairs and a napkin so he wouldn't make a mess. She then looked imploringly at Hermione.

"No, I think we'd like to go see the library if that's okay," The teenaged witch said with a wry smile, at Edward's eager eyes.

"Go ask Sirius, I think he, Remus, and Alastor are plotting upstairs. Try and get them to come down for a bite to eat," She requested with a sniff. Those men really couldn't be trusted to look after themselves.

They nodded before bounding up the steps. After a few minutes of confusion as they stared at the multiple doors, they followed the sounds of voices, which conveniently led them to the library where all three men were standing around a table. Moody looked as stony as ever, though his eyes were narrowed towards an annoyed looking Sirius. Lupin looked between the pair, probably the only reasonable one of the bunch.

Tall, dusty, black shelves lined every wall, with several comfortable, if grimy looking seats placed around the unlit fireplace. Dark, iron vines climbed up the books, giving it a sinister and unwelcome feel. Every other shelf there was a stone gargoyle peering down, as though it was watching every move. Frankly, it was one of the creepiest-looking library's Hermione had ever been. Edward was unbothered; gothic things often seeped into his style and alchemy more often than not.

"-there's no way you can come with us. It's too risky," Moody said gruffly.

"He's my Godson, I can't just-" Sirius looked mildly unhappy.

Lupin cleared his throat, and looked meaningfully towards the two at the door. All three men immediately straightened and pretended that they hadn't been arguing just moments ago. Hermione rolled her eyes inwardly. It wasn't like they'd never seen people fighting before. They weren't children after all, but it seemed like the natural response for the adults was to shield them from any unpleasantness.

Edward was more than a little surprised at this reaction. No one had treated him like a child since he was eleven. Then again, he was a technical dog of the military, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Here though, he was just Edward, the somewhat mysterious cousin of Hermione who travelled here from Germany. They had no clue about his past, or that he was technically an adult. He really wasn't sure how to feel about this development. Normally he'd probably be upset at being kept out of loops by adults, but did he really want to be in this loop? This wasn't his war, and getting involved would ultimately just distract him from his ultimate goal. With that in mind, he hardened his resolve to resist his natural temptation to get involved in other people's business.

"Hullo, what are you up to?" Sirius asked, his warm smile a direct contrast to Moody's accusing gaze.

"You weren't eavesdropping, were you?" He asked roughly.

"No we weren't spying, you paranoid. We were looking for the library," Edward returned with his arms crossed.

"A likely story . . ."

"Don't you have anything better to do than plot and interrogate teenagers?" The blond wondered discourteously.

"I should like to show you how I really interrogate people, I imagine you'd think twice before back-talking," Moody licked his lips disconcertingly.

"I'm shaking in my boots. Seriously, you need a day job," Edward deadpanned. Sirius gave a barking laugh.

"Believe you me, keeping track of Harry and maintaining the order is enough of a job for all of us," Sirius spoke with mirth in his eyes.

"So why aren't you guys off with this Harry guy now?" Edward asked curiously. Moody looked like he was going to snap at him and say it was "confidential," but Lupin just smiled.

"I'm sure you've heard, we're getting him tomorrow night; there isn't much that is kept secret in this house. Until then we have to figure out the little things, like where to go in at, and who to bring." Here he looked over at Sirius a little guiltily.

"I'm sorry we can't take you, old friend, I'm going to have to side with Alastor on this one. It's too much of an unnecessary risk."

Sirius took in a deep breath, Edward could tell how badly he wanted to be childish and perhaps throw a tantrum at how unfair it was. It really was just a unfortunate turn of fate that things ended up the way they were for the man. In any other world he would be a free man. But this was the hand he had been dealt, and there was nothing else to do about it besides work with it as best he could. Sirius exhaled, suddenly looking much older. Usually the laugh lines hid his age, but today they worked against him, making him look careworn.

"Alright, but you take care of him," Sirius warned, though he appeared deflated.

"We all want Harry's safe arrival here, don't worry about a thing. You can just kick back and drink some pumpkin juice," Lupin assured him with a gentle smile. In his eyes, there was obvious understanding of his friend's frustration.

"I doubt that somehow, our old friend Snivellus is dropping by later," He said, and his face screwed up like he'd just eaten a lemon.

"Wait, Professor Snape is a member?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Stop telling the boy all of our secrets," Moody snapped.

"Dumbledore says we can trust him, and I trust Dumbledore," Lupin said, slightly challenging Moody's own loyalty.

"What doesn't mean we should go out of our way to tell him things," Moody muttered.

Edward just gave him a nonchalant shrug, and a smirk and Moody left the library with an annoyed grunt, his wooden leg making pounding sounds that led away.

"Anyways, Sirius, we were wondering if we could use your library. I've heard the Black collection is quite an extensive one," Hermione complimented eagerly.

"I wouldn't know, books have never really been my thing," Sirius scratched his cheek.

Hermione almost burst out laughing at the _absolutely _incredulous look Edward shot the older man, as though the very idea of having a library around your house and not using it was ludicrous. It was awfully wasteful to have all this knowledge around and not bother learning it . . .

"You don't mind though?" She asked, eyeing the bookshelves with no disguised interest. He laughed at her intense love of books.

"Sure, though I'm trusting you to recognize which books are appropriate and which aren't; there are some dark tomes in the Black collection," He warned her seriously.

"Thank you!" She exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes, thank you very much!" Edward reiterated before running over to a bookshelf.

"You'd think we just bought them a new broomstick," Sirius said, a smile reclaiming residence on his face.

"Look! There's books on the heritage of purebloods! Oh, and potions throughout the ages!" Hermione had stars in her eyes.

"People that enjoy learning aren't very difficult to please. Finding a good book is as good as a new broomstick to them. Not to mention it's a heck of a lot cheaper," Lupin replied with a smile as he watched them.

"Add them to the pile in the middle, we'll sort and categorize them later," Edward decided logically, heaving his own pile onto the table.

"Kay."

" . . . Do you think they realize that we're still here?" Sirius asked, feeling a little miffed at being forgotten so easily.

"No, I don't believe so. That's our cue to leave I think," Lupin said with a smile, pulling his friend out the door with him.

Hermione was in book-heaven. Really, she was. The library was not only eclectic in its collection; it was also comprehensive with quality books and reliable writers. Not a square inch was wasted by a half-decent book, which may or not be interesting all of them were the epitome of their designated field of interest. Some books were so old, she had no doubt that they had been passed down, generation to generation for hundreds of years.

It honored and awed her that Sirius had trusted her enough to allow her access to his family's books. Then again, she doubted if he knew the true worth of some of the books. Perhaps if he did, he would've hocked some of it, vindictively as revenge against his less-than-nurturing family. Then again, he might well keep them out of obligation and duty. Hermione had noted the disgusted looks on his face when she saw him looking at some of the portraits. Though within that, there was a bit of unnamable emotion and sadness, and she imagined he perhaps wished things could have been a bit different.

Frankly, the emotional conundrum of Sirius Black was a matter that deserved no prodding.

A good forty-five minutes later, the table was entirely covered in books of all sizes and lengths, piled towards the ceiling in some sort of pyramid-like shape. There was minimal discussion about who got which books first, because there really were so many fantastic selections that there were plenty of wonderful ones to choose from.

"I think I finally understand how Sheska feels," Hermione commented, her brain captured by a numbing happiness at the sheer prospect of having so many books.

"For the total Sheska experience, I'm pretty sure we'd have to get buried at one point or another, so I'll pass," Edward said with a smile, though he was eyeing the stacks eagerly too.

It wasn't often that he got to read his own selection at his own pace. In fact he couldn't remember the last time he had. There always seemed to be something that needed to be researched, or a lead on the philosopher's stone to look up. He supposed casual reading had been one of the sacrifices he'd made when he joined the military. It was sad for someone who really loved books like Edward did. Seeing Hermione every night in his dreams, and her unquenchable desire of learning and books alike had rekindled his own feelings upon the subject.

He gave her a warm smile, which she returned just as earnestly.

She really had no clue.

He planned to keep it that way.

Each picking up a thick volume, they lost themselves in the fine paper and curved ink. For several hours they read, and they would have read for longer if Ron hadn't come skidding into the library, face flushed.

"Something's happened to Harry!" He proclaimed, and the two exchanged glances.

Harry Potter was not a happy camper. If that wasn't the understatement of the year, nothing was.

Not only had he been ignored all summer, with not even a shred of contact or news, but he was attacked by a dementor, going to be tried for underaged magic, and he found out that his crazy cat-obsessed neighbor, was, in fact, a spy for Dumbledore. Really now, Harry should stop expecting anything else besides the worst and strangest of situations.

Yes, he was delighted to see Lupin and (strangely,) Moody. He wasn't sure if he would ever see them again, but he was learning that the world was apparently a lot smaller than he thought considering all of Dumbledore's odd connections. However, this really was just more names to add to his list of people who didn't keep in contact with him. Either every owl in the magic world had mysteriously died overnight, or he had a group of seriously communicationaly-stunted friends. That or they knowingly didn't write to him. The very thought made his blood boil and he had to distract himself before he blew a gasket.

Then there was the Order. Harry had no bloody clue what it was supposed to be, but as the adults talked over his head, as though he wasn't even standing right next to them, (though clearly he was . . .) he heard mention of it repeatedly. The Order of the Phoenix. Frankly, it sounded like the name of a bad take-out dish. He snorted at the thought. Not that any of them knew what take-out was.

It was miraculous to him how they survived without it.

Of course, he wouldn't be even thinking about this if he was informed in the first place what the bloody thing was.

Which reminded him . . . He'd have a few choice words for his so-called friends the next time he saw them.

That time, it seemed, was approaching sooner than he thought. He allowed himself to be passed around between the auror's as they entered the Order, which apparently was a building of some sort. All the while he was strewing in his thoughts. The moment they told him to go upstairs he was almost glad. Where there was a Weasley mother, there were Weasley children, and where there were Weasley children, there was Ron, and by extension most likely Hermione. Though Ron would be there at the very least and he could finally get some bloody answers.

Despite his bitterness, he felt genuine happiness at seeing his friends.

Ron babbled on and on as they exchanged hugs. The situation gradually became clearer to Harry the more he heard.

"-Dumbledore made us promise NOT TO WRITE YOU, and we wanted to so bad but he said we couldn't SO WE DIDN'T, and geez it was so difficult NOT KEEPING YOU IN THE LOOP, we wanted to really bad, but I mean he's Dumbledore, so there isn't much we could do. I hope you're not mad that WE DIDN'T WRITE," Ron sucked in a huge breath with a hopeful look, the joy at seeing Harry still plain on his face.

"Remember to breathe Ron," Hermione said with a grin at the boy's behavior.

"Hey Harry? Hermione I dunno if he understood, think he's a bit overwhelmed?" The ginger asked.

"Oh no I understand, perfectly," Harry said, the dangerous and angry look entering his eyes, and the happiness was capsized by the rush of dark emotions.

Interpreting the look on Harry's face, Hermione stepped forward with Ron.

"He seemed to think it was best," said Hermione "Dumbledore, I mean."

"Right," said Harry with an eye-roll.

"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles -" Ron began.

"Yeah?" said Harry, raising his eyebrows. "Have either of you been attacked by Dementors this summer?"

"Well, no-but that's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time-"

Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed, except him.

"Didn't work that well, though, did it?" said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. "Had to look after myself after all, didn't I?"

"He was so angry," said Hermione, in an almost awestruck voice. "Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary."

"Well, I'm glad he left," Harry said coldly. "If he hadn't, I wouldn't have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer."

"Aren't you… aren't you worried about the Ministry of Magic hearing?" said Hermione quietly.

"No," Harry lied defiantly.

"So why's Dumbledore been so keen to keep me in the dark?" Harry asked, still trying hard to keep his voice casual. "Did you - er - bother to ask him at all?"

He glanced up just in time to see them exchanging a look that told him he was behaving just as they had feared he would. It did nothing to improve his temper.

"We told Dumbledore we wanted to tell you what was going on," said Ron. "We did, mate. But he's really busy now, we've only seen him twice since we came here and he didn't have much time, he just made us swear not to tell you important stuff when we wrote, he said the owls might be intercepted."

"He could still've kept me informed if he'd wanted to," Harry said shortly. "You're not telling me he doesn't know ways to send messages without owls."

Hermione glanced at Ron and then said, "I thought that, too. But he didn't want you to know anything."

"Maybe he thinks I can't be trusted," said Harry, watching their expressions.

"Don't be thick," said Ron, looking highly disconcerted.

"Or that I can't take care of myself."

"Of course he doesn't think that!" said Hermione anxiously.

"So how come I have to stay at the Dursleys' while you two get to join in everything that's going on here?" said Harry, the words tumbling over one another in a rush, his voice growing louder with every word. "How come you two are allowed to know everything that's going on?"

"We're not!" Ron interrupted. "Mum won't let us near the meetings, she says we're too young -" But before he knew it, Harry was shouting.

"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT - WHO SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?"

"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!"

Ron was standing there with his mouth half-open, clearly stunned and at a loss for anything to say, while Hermione looked on the verge of tears.

"BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"

"Harry, we wanted to tell you, we really did -" Hermione began.

"CAN'T'VE WANTED TO THAT MUCH, CAN YOU, OR YOU'D HAVE SENT ME AN OWL, BUT DUMBLEDORE MADEYOU SWEAR–"

"Well, he did -"

"FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON -"

"We wanted to -"

"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER -"

"No, honest -"

"Harry we're really sorry!" said Hermione desperately, her eyes now sparkling with tears. "You're absolutely right, Harry - I'd be furious if it was me!" Even if she wasn't the best of friends with Harry anymore, she still cared for him and didn't think anyone deserved to be treated like this. The guilt racket her body deep down to the core.

Harry glared at her, still breathing deeply, then turned away from them again, pacing up and down. There was a long pause, broken only by the sounds of someone cracking their knuckles menacingly in the corner.

"That was awfully childish, don't you think?"

In the corner a teenager sat. A blood-red cloak was wrapped around his shoulders, golden hair standing in sharp contrast to the surrounding darkness.

"Do you feel better after taking out your anger on people who care about you?"

"Who are you?" Harry asked glaring at the stranger.

"Take it from, I know how it feels to think the world owes you for screwing you over so many times, but that is just not the way it is," He rose, taking the time to adjust his snow-white gloves before he walked casually over.

"I asked you who you were!" Harry demanded.

"What makes you think you'll get your answer," The golden teen asked, he stopped in front of them, and it was then Harry noticed the substantial difference in height. It really didn't match the way he behaved. His presence commanded much more space than his body did. The hair on Harry's neck stood on end as the stranger smiled a cold grin.

"Well, I suppose I'll humor you," He spoke in a velvet tone.

"My name is Edward Elric, I'm Hermione's cousin-" He even gave Harry a half-bow, before straightening and jabbing lightning fast. He punched the boy who lived straight in the face, most likely breaking his nose.

"-And I do not like boys who make girls cry!" He exclaimed with a challenging stare to the boy on the ground.

* * *

Yeah, Harry is suuuch a brat sometimes!

The text I pulled from their argument is legit from the fifth book, just to prove my point about this.

Yeah, I'm not going to post the next part without at least getting ten reviews.

Thanks for reading!

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